SANTA  BARSAiA  STATE 


.lL«« 


^  ^>jRaRY 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


BY 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


BOSTON   AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN    COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    I913 
BY    HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN    COMPANY 

ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


il!Tf^ 


TV/  r;- 


'  ^  "lESELURi 


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PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

VOLUME  I 

'  If  my  readers  should  at  any  time  remark  that  I  am 
particularly  dull,  they  may  be  assured  there  is  a  design 
under  it.'  —  British  Essayist. 


INTRODUCTION 

If  I  had  valued  my  own  reputation,  as  it  is  said  I  ought 
in  prudence  to  have  done,  I  might  have  now  drawn  a 
line,  and  remained  for  life,  or  (who  knows?)  perhaps  for 
some  years  after  death,  the  'ingenious  author  of  Waver- 
ley.'  I  was  not,  however,  more  desirous  of  this  sort  of 
immortality,  which  might  have  lasted  some  twenty  or 
thirty  years,  than  Falstaff  of  the  embowelling  which 
was  promised  him  after  the  field  of  Shrewsbury,  by  his 
patron  the  Prince  of  Wales.  *  Embowel'd?  If  you  em- 
bowel me  to-day,  you  may  powder  and  eat  me  to- 
morrow!' 

If  my  occupation  as  a  romancer  were  taken  from  me, 
I  felt  I  should  have  at  a  late  hour  in  life  to  find  me  out 
another;  when  I  could  hardly  expect  to  acquire  those 
new  tricks  which  are  proverbially  said  not  to  be  learned 
by  those  dogs  who  are  getting  old.  Besides,  I  had  yet 
to  learn  from  the  public  that  my  intrusions  were  dis- 
agreeable; and  while  I  was  endured  with  some  patience, 
I  felt  I  had  all  the  reputation  which  I  greatly  coveted. 
My  memory  was  well  stored,  both  with  historical,  local, 
and  traditional  notices,  and  I  had  become  almost  as 
licensed  a  plague  to  the  public  as  the  well-remembered 
beggar  of  the  ward,  whom  men  distinguish  by  their  fa- 
vour, perhaps  for  no  better  reason  than  that  they  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  giving  him  alms,  as  a  part  of  the  busi- 
ness of  their  daily  promenade.  The  general  fact  is  unde- 
niable: all  men  grow  old,  all  men  must  wear  out;  but 
men  of  ordinary  wisdom,  however  aware  of  the  general 

ix 


INTRODUCTION 

fact,  are  unwilling  to  admit  in  their  own  case  any  special 
instances  of  failure.  Indeed,  they  can  hardly  be  expected 
themselves  to  distinguish  the  effects  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Granada's  apoplexy,  and  are  not  unwilling  to  pass 
over  in  their  composition,  as  instances  of  mere  care- 
lessness or  bad  luck,  what  others  may  consider  as  symp- 
toms of  mortal  decay.  I  had  no  choice  save  that  of  ab- 
solutely laying  aside  the  pen,  the  use  of  which  at  my  time 
of  life  was  become  a  habit,  or  to  continue  its  vagaries, 
until  the  public  should  let  me  plainly  understand  they 
would  no  more  of  me  —  a  hint  which  I  was  not  unlikely 
to  meet  with,  and  which  I  was  determined  to  take  with- 
out waiting  for  a  repetition.  This  hint,  that  the  reader 
may  plainly  understand  me,  I  was  determined  to  take 
when  the  publication  of  a  new  Waverley  novel  should  not 
be  the  subject  of  some  attention  in  the  literary  world. 

An  accidental  circumstance  decided  my  choice  of  a 
subject  for  the  present  work.  It  was  now  several  years 
since  my  immediate  younger  brother,  Thomas  Scott,  al- 
ready mentioned  in  these  notes,  had  resided  for  two  or 
three  seasons  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  having  access  to 
the  registers  of  that  singular  territory,  had  copied  many 
of  them,  which  he  subjected  to  my  perusal.  These  papers 
were  put  into  my  hands  while  my  brother  had  thoughts 
of  making  some  literary  use  of  them,  I  do  not  well  re- 
member what ;  but  he  never  came  to  any  decision  on  that 
head,  and  grew  tired  of  the  task  of  transcription.  The 
papers,  I  suppose,  were  lost  in  the  course  of  a  military 
man's  life.  The  tenor  of  them,  that  is,  of  the  most  re- 
markable, remained  engraved  on  the  memory  of  the 
Author. 

The  interesting  and  romantic  story  of  William  Chris- 


INTRODUCTION 

tian  especially  struck  my  fancy.  I  found  the  same  indi- 
vidual, as  well  as  his  father,  particularly  noticed  in  some 
memorials  of  the  island,  preserved  by  the  Earl  of  Derby, 
and  published  in  Dr.  Peck's  Desiderata  Curiosa.  This 
gentleman  was  the  son  of  Edward,  formerly  governor  of 
the  island ;  and  William  himself  was  afterwards  one  of  its 
two  Dempsters,  or  supreme  judges.  Both  father  and 
son  embraced  the  party  of  the  islanders,  and  contested 
some  feudal  rights  claimed  by  the  Earl  of  Derby  as  king 
of  the  island.  When  the  earl  had  suffered  death  at  Bol- 
ton-le-Moors,  Captain  Christian  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  Roundheads,  if  they  might  be  so  called,  and 
found  the  means  of  holding  communication  with  a  fleet 
sent  by  the  Parliament.  The  island  was  surrendered  to 
the  Parliament  by  the  insurgent  Manxmen.  The  high- 
spirited  countess  and  her  son  were  arrested  and  cast 
into  prison,  where  they  were  long  detained,  and  very 
indifferently  treated.  When  the  restoration  took  place, 
the  countess,  or  by  title  the  queen-dowager  of  the  island, 
seized  upon  William  Dhone,  or  Fairhaired  William,  as 
William  Christian  was  termed,  and  caused  him  to  be 
tried  and  executed,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  island, 
for  having  dethroned  his  liege  mistress  and  imprisoned 
her  and  her  family.  Romancers,  and  readers  of  romance, 
will  generally  allow  that  the  fate  of  Christian,  and  the 
contrast  of  his  character  with  that  of  the  high-minded 
but  vindictive  Countess  of  Derby,  famous  during  the 
civil  wars  for  her  valiant  defence  of  Latham  House,  con- 
tained the  essence  of  an  interesting  tale.  I  have,  how- 
ever, dwelt  little  either  on  the  death  of  William  Chris- 
tian or  on  the  manner  in  which  Charles  II  viewed  that 
stretch  of  feudal  power,  and  the  heavy  fine  which  he 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 

imposed  upon  the  Derby  estates  for  that  extent  of 
jurisdiction  of  which  the  countess  had  been  guilty.  Far 
less  have  I  given  any  opinion  on  the  justice  or  guilt  of 
that  action,  which  is  to  this  day  judged  of  by  the  people 
of  the  island  as  they  happen  to  be  connected  with  the 
sufferer,  or  perhaps  as  they  may  look  back  with  the  eyes 
of  favour  upon  the  Cavaliers  or  Roundheads  of  those 
contentious  days.  I  do  not  conceive  that  I  have  done 
injury  to  the  memory  of  this  gentleman  or  any  of  his 
descendants  in  his  person;  at  the  same  time  I  have  most 
willingly  given  his  representative  an  opportunity  of 
stating  in  this  edition  of  the  Novel  what  he  thinks  neces- 
sary for  the  vindication  of  his  ancestor,  and  the  reader 
will  find  the  exposition  in  the  Notices,  for  which  Mr. 
Christian  desires  admission.^  I  could  do  no  less,  consid- 
ering the  polite  and  gentlemanlike  manner  in  which  he 
stated  feelings  concerning  his  ancestry,  to  which  a  Scots- 
man can  hardly  be  supposed  to  be  indifferent. 

In  another  respect,  Mr.  Christian  with  justice  com- 
plains, that  Edward  Christian,  described  in  the  romance 
as  the  brother  of  the  gentleman  executed  in  consequence 
of  the  countess's  arbitrary  act  of  authority,  is  pourtrayed 
as  a  wretch  of  unbounded  depravity,  having  only  in- 
genuity and  courage  to  rescue  him  from  abhorrence,  as 
well  as  hatred.  Any  personal  allusion  was  entirely  un- 
designed on  the  part  of  the  Author.  The  Edward  Chris- 
tian of  the  tale  is  a  mere  creature  of  the  imagination. 
Commentators  have  naturally  enough  identified  him 
with  a  brother  of  William  Christian,  named  Edward,  who 
died  in  prison  after  being  confined  seven  or  eight  years 
in  Peel  Castle,  in  the  year  1650.  Of  him  I  had  no  access 
'  See  Appendices. 
xii 


INTRODUCTION 

to  know  anything;  and  as  I  was  not  aware  that  such  a 
person  had  existed,  I  could  hardly  be  said  to  have  tra- 
duced his  character.  It  is  sufficient  for  my  justification 
that  there  lived  at  the  period  of  my  story  a  person  named 
Edward  Christian,  'with  whom  connected,  or  by  whom 
begot,'  I  am  a  perfect  stranger,  but  who  we  know  to  have 
been  engaged  in  such  actions  as  may  imply  his  having 
been  guilty  of  anything  bad.  The  fact  is,  that  upon 
the  5th  June  1680,  Thomas  Blood,  the  famous  crown- 
stealer,  Edward  Christian,  Arthur  O'Brien,  and  others, 
were  found  guilty  of  being  concerned  in  a  conspiracy 
for  taking  away  the  life  and  character  of  the  celebrated 
Duke  of  Buckingham ;  but  that  this  Edward  was  the  same 
with  the  brother  of  William  Christian  is  impossible, 
since  that  brother  died  in  1650;  nor  would  I  have  used 
his  christened  name  of  Edward,  had  I  supposed  there 
was  a  chance  of  its  being  connected  with  any  existing 
family.  These  genealogical  matters  are  fully  illustrated 
in  the  notes  to  the  Appendix. 

I  ought  to  have  mentioned  in  the  former  editions  of 
this  romance,  that  Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille,  Countess 
of  Derby,  represented  as  a  Catholic,  was,  in  fact,  a 
French  Protestant.  For  misrepresenting  the  noble  dame 
in  this  manner,  I  have  only  Lucio's  excuse:  *I  spoke  ac- 
cording to  the  trick.'  In  a  story  where  the  greater  part 
is  avowedly  fiction,  the  author  is  at  liberty  to  introduce 
such  variations  from  actual  fact  as  his  plot  requires,  or 
which  are  calculated  to  enhance  it;  in  which  predicament 
the  rehgion  of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  during  the  Popish 
Plot,  appeared  to  fall.  If  I  have  over-estimated  a  ro- 
mancer's privileges  and  immunities,  I  am  afraid  this  is  not 
the  only,  nor  most  important,  case  in  which  I  have  done 

xiii 


INTRODUCTION 

so.  To  speak  big  words,  the  heroic  countess  has  far  less 
grounds  for  an  action  of  scandal  than  the  memory  of  Virgil 
might  be  liable  to  for  his  posthumous  scandal  of  Dido. 

The  character  of  Fenella,  which,  from  its  peculiarity, 
made  a  favourable  impression  on  the  public,  was  far 
from  being  original.  The  fine  sketch  of  Mignon  in  Wil- 
helm  Meister's  Lehrjahre,  a  celebrated  work  from  the  pen 
of  Goethe,  gave  the  idea  of  such  a  being.  But  the  copy 
will  be  found  greatly  different  from  my  great  prototype ; 
nor  can  I  be  accused  of  borrowing  anything,  save  the 
general  idea,  from  an  author,  the  honour  of  his  own 
country  and  an  example  to  the  authors  of  other  king- 
doms, to  whom  all  must  be  proud  to  own  an  obligation. 

Family  tradition  supplied  me  with  two  circumstances, 
which  are  somewhat  analogous  to  that  in  question. 
The  first  is  an  account  of  a  lawsuit,  taken  from  a  Scot- 
tish report  of  adjudged  cases,  quoted  in  note  to  Chapter 
XX.  The  other  —  of  which  the  editor  has  no  reason  to 
doubt,  having  often  heard  it  from  those  who  were  wit- 
nesses of  the  fact  —  relates  to  the  power  of  a  female 
in  keeping  a  secret,  sarcastically  said  to  be  impossible, 
even  when  that  secret  refers  to  the  exercise  of  her  tongue. 

In  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  a  female  wan- 
derer came  to  the  doorof  Mr.  Robert  Scott,  grandfather  of 
the  present  author,  an  opulent  farmer  in  Roxburghshire^ 
and  made  signs  that  she  desired  shelter  for  the  night, 
which,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  was  readily 
granted.  The  next  day  the  covmtry  was  covered  with 
snow,  and  the  departure  of  the  wanderer  was  rendered 
impossible.  She  remained  for  many  days,  her  mainten- 
ance adding  little  to  the  expense  of  a  considerable  house- 
hold ;  and  by  the  time  that  the  weather  grew  milder,  she 

xiv 


INTRODUCTION 

had  learned  to  hold  intercourse  by  signs  with  the  house- 
hold around  her,  and  could  intimate  to  them  that  she 
was  desirous  of  staying  where  she  was,  and  working  at 
the  wheel  and  other  employment,  to  compensate  for  her 
food.  This  was  a  compact  not  unfrequent  at  that  time, 
and  the  dumb  woman  entered  upon  her  thrift,  and 
proved  a  useful  member  of  the  patriarchal  household. 
She  was  a  good  spinner,  knitter,  carder,  and  so  forth,  but 
her  excellence  lay  in  attending  to  the  feeding  and  bring- 
ing up  the  domestic  poultry.  Her  mode  of  whistling  to 
call  them  together  was  so  peculiarly  elfish  and  shrill, 
that  it  was  thought  by  those  who  heard  it  more  like  that 
of  a  fairy  than  a  human  being. 

In  this  manner  she  lived  three  or  four  years,  nor  was 
there  the  slightest  idea  entertained  in  the  family  that 
she  was  other  than  the  mute  and  deprived  person  she 
had  always  appeared.  But  in  a  moment  of  surprise  she 
dropped  the  mask  which  she  had  worn  so  long. 

It  chanced  upon  a  Sunday  that  the  whole  inhabitants 
of  the  household  were  at  church  excepting  Dumb  Lizzie, 
whose  infirmity  was  supposed  to  render  her  incapable  of 
profiting  by  divine  service,  and  who  therefore  stayed  at 
home  to  take  charge  of  the  house.  It  happened  that,  as 
she  was  sitting  in  the  kitchen,  a  mischievous  shepherd 
boy,  instead  of  looking  after  his  flock  on  the  lea,  as  was 
his  duty,  slunk  into  the  house  to  see  what  he  could  pick 
up,  or  perhaps  out  of  mere  curiosity.  Being  tempted  by 
something  which  was  in  his  eyes  a  nicety,  he  put  forth 
his  hand  unseen,  as  he  conceived,  to  appropriate  it.  The 
dumb  woman  came  suddenly  upon  him,  and  in  the  sur- 
prise forgot  her  part,  and  exclaimed,  in  loud  Scotch  and 
with  distinct  articulation,  *Ah,  you  little  deevil's  limb!' 

XV 


INTRODUCTION 

The  boy,  terrified  more  by  the  character  of  the  person 
who  rebuked  him  than  by  the  mere  circumstance  of 
having  been  taken  in  the  insignificant  offence,  fled  in 
great  dismay  to  the  church,  to  carry  the  miraculous 
news  that  the  dumb  woman  had  found  her  tongue. 

The  family  returned  home  in  great  surprise,  but  found 
that  their  inmate  had  relapsed  into  her  usual  mute  con- 
dition, would  communicate  with  them  only  by  signs,  and 
in  that  manner  denied  positively  what  the  boy  aflirmed. 

From  this  time  confidence  was  broken  betwixt  the 
other  inmates  of  the  family  and  their  dumb,  or  rather 
silent,  guest.  Traps  were  laid  for  the  supposed  impostor, 
all  of  which  she  skilfully  eluded ;  firearms  were  often  sud- 
denly discharged  near  her,  but  never  on  such  occasions 
was  she  seen  to  start.  It  seems  probable,  however,  that 
Lizzie  grew  tired  of  all  this  mistrust,  for  she  one  morn- 
ing disappeared  as  she  came,  without  any  ceremony  of 
leave-taking. 

She  was  seen,  it  is  said,  upon  the  other  side  of  the 
English  Border,  in  perfect  possession  of  her  speech. 
Whether  this  was  exactly  the  case  or  not,  my  informers 
were  no  way  anxious  in  inquiring,  nor  am  I  able  to 
authenticate  the  fact.  The  shepherd-boy  lived  to  be  a 
man,  and  always  averred  that  she  had  spoken  dis- 
tinctly to  him.  What  could  be  the  woman's  reason  for 
persevering  so  long  in  a  disguise  as  unnecessary  as  it 
was  severe  could  never  be  guessed,  and  was  perhaps  the 
consequence  of  a  certain  aberration  of  the  mind.  I  can 
only  add,  that  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  the  tale 
to  be  perfectly  authentic,  so  far  as  it  is  here  given,  and 
it  may  serve  to  parallel  the  supposed  case  of  Fenella. 

Abbotsford,  ist  July  183 1. 


PREFATORY    LETTER 

FROM 

THE   REV.    DR.    DRYASDUST    OF   YORK 

TO 

CAPTAIN    CLUTTERBUCK 

Residing  at  Fairy  Lodge,  near  Kennaquhair,  N.  B. 

Very  worthy  and  dear  Sir, 

To  your  last  letter  I  might  have  answered,  with 
the  classic,  Haud  equidem  invideo,  miror  magis.  For 
though  my  converse,  from  infancy,  has  been  with  things 
of  antiquity,  yet  I  love  not  ghosts  or  spectres  to  be  com- 
mentators thereon;  and  truly  your  account  of  the  con- 
versation you  held  with  our  great  parent,  in  the  crypt, 
or  most  intimate  recess,  of  the  publishers  at  Edinburgh, 
had  upon  me  much  the  effect  of  the  apparition  of  Hec- 
tor's phantom  on  the  hero  of  the  jEneid  — 

Obstupui,  steteruntque  comae. 

And,  as  I  said  above,  I  repeat  that  I  wondered  at  the 
vision,  without  envying  you  the  pleasure  of  seeing  our 
great  progenitor.  But  it  seems  that  he  is  now  permitted 
to  show  himself  to  his  family  more  freely  than  formerly; 
or  that  the  old  gentleman  is  turned  somewhat  garrulous 
in  these  latter  days;  or,  in  short,  not  to  exhaust  your 
patience  with  conjectures  of  the  cause,  I  also  have  seen 
the  vision  of  the  Author  of  Waverley.  I  do  not  mean  to 

xvii 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

take  any  undue  state  on  myself,  when  I  observe,  that 
this  interview  was  marked  with  circumstances  in  some 
degree  more  formally  complaisant  than  those  which 
attended  your  meeting  with  him  in  our  worthy  pub- 
lisher's; for  yours  had  the  appearance  of  a  fortuitous 
rencontre,  whereas  mine  was  preceded  by  the  com- 
munication of  a  large  roll  of  papers,  containing  a  new 
history,  called  Peveril  oj  the  Peak. 

I  no  sooner  found  that  this  manuscript  consisted  of  a 
narrative,  running  to  the  length  of  perhaps  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty  pages  in  each  volume,  or  thereabouts, 
than  it  instantly  occurred  to  me  from  whom  this  boon 
came ;  and  having  set  myself  to  peruse  the  written  sheets, 
I  began  to  entertain  strong  expectations  that  I  might, 
peradventure,  next  see  the  Author  himself. 

Again,  it  seems  to  me  a  marked  circumstance  that, 
whereas  an  inner  apartment  of  Mr.  Constable's  shop 
was  thought  a  place  of  sufficient  solemnity  for  your 
audience,  our  venerable  senior  was  pleased  to  afford 
mine  in  the  recesses  of  my  own  lodgings,  inira  parietes, 
as  it  were,  and  without  the  chance  of  interruption.  I 
must  also  remark,  that  the  features,  form,  and  dress  of 
the  eidolon,  as  you  well  term  the  apparition  of  our  parent, 
seemed  to  me  more  precisely  distinct  than  was  vouch- 
safed to  you  on  the  former  occasion.  Of  this  hereafter; 
but  Heaven  forbid  I  should  glory  or  set  up  any  claim  of 
superiority  over  the  other  descendants  of  our  common 
parent  from  such  decided  marks  of  his  preference.  Laus 
propria  sordet.  I  am  well  satisfied  that  the  honour  was 
bestowed  not  on  my  person,  but  my  cloth:  that  the  pre- 
ference did  not  elevate  Jonas  Dryasdust  over  Clutter- 
buck,  but  the  doctor  of  divinity  over  the  captain.   Ce. 

xviii 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

dant  arma  toga  —  a  maxim  never  to  be  forgotten  at  any 
time,  but  especially  to  be  remembered  when  the  soldier 
is  upon  half-pay. 

But  I  bethink  me  that  I  am  keeping  you  all  this  while 
in  the  porch,  and  wearying  you  with  long  inductions, 
when  you  would  have  me  properare  in  mediam  rem. 
As  you  will,  it  shall  be  done;  for,  as  his  Grace  is  wont 
to  say  of  me  wittily,  'No  man  tells  a  story  so  well  as  Dr. 
Dryasdust,  when  he  has  once  got  up  to  the  starting- 
post.'    Jocose  hoc.    But  to  continue. 

I  had  skimmed  the  cream  of  the  narrative  which  I  had 
received  about  a  week  before,  and  that  with  no  small 
cost  and  pain;  for  the  hand  of  our  parent  is  become  so 
small  and  so  crabbed  that  I  was  obliged  to  use  strong 
magnifiers.  Feeling  my  eyes  a  little  exhausted  towards 
the  close  of  the  second  volume,  I  leaned  back  in  my  easy- 
chair,  and  began  to  consider  whether  several  of  the  ob- 
jections which  have  been  particularly  urged  against  our 
father  and  patron  might  not  be  considered  as  appl3dng, 
in  an  especial  manner,  to  the  papers  I  had  just  perused. 
*Here  are  figments  enough,'  said  I  to  myself,  'to  confuse 
the  march  of  a  whole  history  —  anachronisms  enough 
to  overset  all  chronology!  The  old  gentleman  hath 
broken  all  bounds:  ahiit,  evasit,  erupitJ 

As  these  thoughts  passed  through  my  mind,  I  fell  into 
a  fit  of  musing,  which  is  not  uncommon  with  me  after 
dinner,  when  I  am  altogether  alone,  or  have  no  one 
with  me  but  my  curate.  I  was  awake,  however;  for  I 
remembered  seeing,  in  the  embers  of  the  fire,  a  repre- 
sentation of  a  mitre,  with  the  towers  of  a  cathedral  in 
the  background;  moreover,  I  recollect  gazing  for  a 
certain  time  on  the  comely  countenance  of  Dr.  White- 

xix 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

rose,  my  uncle  by  the  mother's  side  —  the  same  who  is 
mentioned  in  The  Heart  of  Midlothian  —  whose  portrait, 
graceful  in  wig  and  canonicals,  hangs  above  my  mantel- 
piece. Further,  I  remember  marking  the  flowers  in  the 
frame  of  carved  oak,  and  casting  my  eye  on  the  pistols 
which  hang  beneath,  being  the  firearms  with  which,  in 
the  eventful  year  1746,  my  uncle  meant  to  have  es- 
poused the  cause  of  Prince  Charles  Edward;  for,  in- 
deed, so  little  did  he  esteem  personal  safety  in  comparison 
of  steady  High  Church  principle,  that  he  waited  but  the 
news  of  the  Adventurer's  reaching  London  to  hasten  to 
join  his  standard. 

Such  a  doze  as  I  then  enjoyed,  I  find  compatible  with 
indulging  the  best  and  deepest  cogitations  which  at  any 
time  arise  in  my  mind.  I  chew  the  cud  of  sweet  and 
bitter  fancy,  in  a  state  betwixt  sleeping  and  waking 
which  I  consider  as  so  highly  favourable  to  philosophy, 
that  I  have  no  doubt  some  of  its  most  distinguished 
systems  have  been  composed  under  its  influence.  My 
servant  is,  therefore,  instructed  to  tread  as  if  upon 
down;  my  door-hinges  are  carefully  oiled,  and  all  appli- 
ances used  to  prevent  me  from  being  prematurely  and 
harshly  called  back  to  the  broad  waking-day  of  a  labo- 
rious world.  My  custom,  in  this  particular,  is  so  well 
known,  that  the  very  schoolboys  cross  the  alley  on  tip- 
toe, betwixt  the  hours  of  four  and  five.  My  cell  is  the 
very  dwelling  of  Morpheus.  There  is  indeed  a  bawling 
knave  of  a  broom-man,  quern  ego  —  But  this  is  matter 
for  the  quarter-sessions. 

As  my  head  sunk  back  upon  the  easy-chair  in  the 
philosophical  mood  which  I  have  just  described,  and 
the  eyes  of  my  body  began  to  close,  in  order,  doubtless, 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

that  those  of  my  understanding  might  be  the  more 
widely  opened,  I  was  startled  by  a  knock  at  the  door, 
of  a  kind  more  authoritatively  boisterous  than  is  given 
at  that  hour  by  any  visitor  acquainted  with  my  habits. 
I  started  up  in  my  seat,  and  heard  the  step  of  my  ser- 
vant hurrying  along  the  passage,  followed  by  a  very 
heavy  and  measured  pace,  which  shook  the  long  oak- 
floored  gallery  in  such  a  manner  as  forcibly  to  arrest 
my  attention.  'A  stranger,  sir,  just  arrived  from  Edin- 
burgh by  the  north  mail,  desires  to  speak  with  your 
reverence.'  Such  were  the  words  with  which  Jacob 
threw  the  door  to  the  wall;  and  the  startled  tone  in 
which  he  pronounced  them,  although  there  was  nothing 
particular  in  the  annunciation  itself,  prepared  me  for 
the  approach  of  a  visitor  of  uncommon  dignity  and 
importance. 

The  Author  of  Waverley  entered,  a  bulky  and  tall 
man,  in  a  travelling  great-coat,  which  covered  a  suit  of 
snuff -brown,  cut  in  imitation  of  that  worn  by  the  great 
Rambler.  His  flapped  hat  —  for  he  disdained  the  mod- 
ern frivolities  of  a  travelling-cap  —  was  bound  over  his 
head  with  a  large  silk  handkerchief,  so  as  to  protect  his 
ears  from  cold  at  once  and  from  the  babble  of  his  pleas- 
ant companions  in  the  public  coach  from  which  he  had 
just  alighted.  There  was  somewhat  of  a  sarcastic 
shrewdness  and  sense  which  sat  on  the  heavy  penthouse 
of  his  shaggy  grey  eyebrow;  his  features  were  in  other 
respects  largely  shaped,  and  rather  heavy  than  promis- 
ing wit  or  genius ;  but  he  had  a  notable  projection  of  the 
nose,  similar  to  that  line  of  the  Latin  poet  — 

Immodicum  surgit  pro  cuspide  rostrum. 
xxi 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

A  stout  walking-stick  stayed  his  hand;  a  double  Barce- 
lona protected  his  neck;  his  belly  was  something  promi- 
nent, 'but  that's  not  much';  his  breeches  were  substan- 
tial thick-set;. and  a  pair  of  top-boots,  which  were  slipped 
down  to  ease  his  sturdy  calves,  did  not  conceal  his  com- 
fortable travelling  stockings  of  lamb's  wool,  wrought, 
not  on  the  loom,  but  on  wires,  and  after  the  venerable 
ancient  fashion  known  in  Scotland  by  the  name  of 
*ridge-and-furrow.'  His  age  seemed  to  be  considerably 
above  fifty,  but  could  not  amount  to  threescore,  which 
I  observed  with  pleasure,  trusting  there  may  be  a  good 
deal  of  work  had  out  of  him  yet;  especially  as  a  general 
haleness  of  appearance  —  the  compass  and  strength  of 
his  voice,  the  steadiness  of  his  step,  the  rotundity  of  his 
calf,  the  depth  of  his  'hem,'  and  the  sonorous  emphasis 
of  his  sneeze,  were  all  signs  of  a  constitution  built  for 
permanence. 

It  struck  me  forcibly,  as  I  gazed  on  this  portly  person, 
that  he  reahsed,  in  my  imagination,  the  Stout  Gentle- 
man in  No.  II,  who  afforded  such  subject  of  varying 
speculation  to  our  most  amusing  and  elegant  Utopian 
traveller,  Master  Geoffrey  Crayon.  Indeed,  but  for  one 
little  trait  in  the  conduct  of  the  said  Stout  Gentleman 
• —  I  mean  the  gallantry  towards  his  landlady,  a  thing 
which  would  greatly  derogate  from  our  senior's  char- 
acter —  I  should  be  disposed  to  conclude  that  Master 
Crayon  had,  on  that  memorable  occasion,  actually 
passed  his  time  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Author  of  Waverley. 
But  our  worthy  patriarch,  be  it  spoken  to  his  praise,  far 
from  cultivating  the  society  of  the  fair  sex,  seems,  in 
avoiding  the  company  of  womankind,  rather  to  imitate 
the  humour  of  our  friend  and  relation,  Master  Jonathan 

xxii 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

Oldbuck,  as  I  was  led  to  conjecture,  from  a  circumstance 
which  occurred  immediately  after  his  entrance. 

Having  acknowledged  his  presence  with  fitting  thanks 
and  gratulations,  I  proposed  to  my  venerated  visitor, 
as  the  refreshment  best  suited  to  the  hour  of  the  day, 
to  summon  my  cousin  and  housekeeper,  Miss  Catharine 
Whiterose,  with  the  tea-equipage;  but  he  rejected  my 
proposal  with  disdain  worthy  of  the  Laird  of  Monk- 
barns.  'No  scandal-broth,'  he  exclaimed  —  'no  un- 
idea'd  woman's  chatter  for  me.  Fill  the  frothed  tankard 
—  slice  the  fatted  rump;  I  desire  no  society  but  yours, 
and  no  refreshment  but  what  the  cask  and  the  gridiron 
can  supply.' 

The  beefsteak,  and  toast,  and  tankard  were  speedily 
got  ready;  and  whether  an  apparition  or  a  bodily  presen- 
tation, my  visitor  displayed  dexterity  as  a  trencherman 
which  might  have  attracted  the  envy  of  a  hungry  hunter 
after  a  fox-chase  of  forty  miles.  Neither  did  he  fail  to 
make  some  deep  and  solemn  appeals  not  only  to  the 
tankard  aforesaid,  but  to  two  decanters  of  London  par- 
ticular Madeira  and  old  port;  the  first  of  which  I  had 
extracted  from  its  ripening  place  of  depositation  within 
reach  of  the  genial  warmth  of  the  oven ;  the  other,  from 
a  deep  crypt  in  mine  own  ancient  cellar,  which  whilom 
may  have  held  the  vintages  of  the  victors  of  the  world, 
the  arch  being  composed  of  Roman  brick.  I  could  not 
help  admiring  and  congratulating  the  old  gentleman 
upon  the  vigorous  appetite  which  he  displayed  for  the 
genial  cheer  of  Old  England.  'Sir,'  was  his  reply,  'I 
must  eat  as  an  Englishman  to  qualify  myself  for  tak- 
ing my  place  at  one  of  the  most  select  companies  of 
right  English  spirits  which  ever  girdled  in  and  hewed 

xxiii 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

asunder  a  mountainous  sirloin  and  a  generous  plum- 
pudding.' 

I  inquired,  but  with  all  deference  and  modesty,  whi- 
ther he  was  bound,  and  to  what  distinguished  society 
he  applied  a  description  so  general.  I  shall  proceed,  in 
humble  imitation  of  your  example,  to  give  the  subse- 
quent dialogue  in  a  dramatic  form,  unless  when  descrip- 
tion becomes  necessary. 

Author  of  Waverley.  To  whom  should  I  apply  such  a 
description,  save  to  the  only  society  to  whom  it  can  be 
thoroughly  applicable  —  those  unerring  judges  of  old 
books  and  old  wine  —  the  Roxburgh  Club  of  London? 
Have  you  not  heard  that  I  have  been  chosen  a  member 
of  that  society  of  select  bibliomaniacs?  ^ 

Dryasdust  (rummaging  in  his  pocket).  I  did  hear 
something  of  it  from  Captain  Clutterbuck,  who  wrote 
to  me  —  ay,  here  is  his  letter  —  that  such  a  report  was 
current  among  the  Scottish  antiquaries,  who  were  much 
alarmed  lest  you  should  be  seduced  into  the  heresy  of 
preferring  English  beef  to  seven-year-old  black-faced 
mutton.  Maraschino  to  whisky,  and  turtle-soup  to  cock- 
a-leekie;  in  which  case,  they  must  needs  renounce  you 
as  a  lost  man.  'But,'  adds  our  friend,  looking  at  the 
letter,  his  hand  is  rather  of  a  military  description,  better 
used  to  handle  the  sword  than  the  pen  —  *  our  friend  is 
so  much  upon  the  shun,'  —  the  shun,  I  think  it  is  — 
'that  it  must  be  no  light  temptation  which  will  with- 
draw him  from  his  incognito.' 

^  The  author  has  pride  in  recording  that  he  had  the  honour  to  be 
elected  a  member  of  this  distinguished  association,  merely  as  the 
author  of  Waverley,  without  any  other  designation;  and  it  was  an  ad- 
ditional inducement  to  throw  off  the  masque  of  an  anon>Tnous  author, 
that  it  gives  him  a  right  to  occupy  the  vacant  chair  at  that  festive 
board. 

xxiv 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

Author.  No  light  temptation,  unquestionably;  but 
this  is  a  powerful  one,  to  hob-or-nob  with  the  lords 
of  the  literary  treasures  of  Althorpe  and  Hodnet,  in 
Madeira  negus,  brewed  by  the  classical  Dibdin;  to  share 
those  profound  debates  which  stamp  accurately  on  each 
'small  volume,  dark  with  tarnished  gold,'  its  collar,  not 
of  S.  S.  but  of  R.  R.;  to  toast  the  immortal  memory  of 
Caxton,  Valdarar,  Pynson,  and  the  other  fathers  of  that 
great  art  which  has  made  all,  and  each  of  us,  what  we 
are.  These,  my  dear  son,  are  temptations  to  which  you 
see  me  now  in  the  act  of  resigning  that  quiet  chimney- 
corner  of  life  in  which,  unknowing  and  unknown  —  save 
by  means  of  the  hopeful  family  to  which  I  have  given 
birth  —  I  proposed  to  wear  out  the  end  of  Hfe's  evening 
grey. 

So  saying,  our  venerable  friend  took  another  emphatic 
touch  of  the  tankard,  as  if  the  very  expression  had  sug- 
gested that  specific  remedy  against  the  evils  of  life 
recommended  in  the  celebrated  response  of  Johnson's 
anchorite  — 

Come,  my  lad,  and  drink  some  beer. 

When  he  had  placed  on  the  table  the  silver  tankard, 
and  fetched  a  deep  sigh  to  collect  the  respiration  which 
the  long  draught  had  interrupted,  I  could  not  help 
echoing  it  in  a  note  so  pathetically  compassionate  that 
he  fixed  his  eyes  on  me  with  surprise.  'How  is  this?' 
said  he,  somewhat  angrily;  'do  you,  the' creature  of  my 
will,  grudge  me  my  preferment?  Have  I  dedicated  to 
you  and  your  fellows  the  best  hours  of  my  life  for  these 
seven  years  past;  and  do  you  presume  to  grumble  or 
repine  because,  in  those  which  are  to  come,  I  seek  for 

XXV 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

some  enjoyment  of  life  in  society  so  congenial  to  my 
pursuits? '  I  humbled  myself  before  the  offended  senior, 
and  professed  my  innocence  in  all  that  could  possibly 
give  him  displeasure.  He  seemed  partly  appeased,  but 
still  bent  on  me  an  eye  of  suspicion,  while  he  questioned 
me  in  the  words  of  old  Norton,  in  the  ballad  of  the 
Rising  in  the  North  Country. 

Author.  What  wouldst  thou  have,  Francis  Norton? 

Thou  art  my  youngest  son  and  heir; 
Something  lies  brooding  at  thy  heart  — 

Whate  'er  it  be,  to  me  declare. 

Dryasdust.  Craving,  then,  your  paternal  forgiveness 
for  my  presumption,  I  only  sighed  at  the  possibihty  of 
your  venturing  yourself  amongst  a  body  of  critics  to 
whom,  in  the  capacity  of  skilful  antiquaries,  the  investi- 
gation of  truth  is  an  especial  duty,  and  who  may  there- 
fore visit  with  the  more  severe  censure  those  aberrations 
which  it  is  so  often  your  pleasure  to  make  from  the  path 
of  true  history. 

Author.  I  understand  you.  You  mean  to  say  these 
learned  persons  will  have  but  little  toleration  for  a 
romance  or  a  fictitious  narrative  founded  upon  history? 

Dryasdust.  Why,  sir,  I  do  rather  apprehend  that  their 
respect  for  the  foundation  will  be  such  that  they  may  be 
apt  to  quarrel  with  the  inconsistent  nature  of  the  super- 
structure; just  as  every  classical  traveller  pours  forth 
expressions  of  sorrow  and  indignation  when,  in  travel- 
ling through  Greece,  he  chances  to  see  a  Turkish  kiosk 
rising  on  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  temple. 

Author.  But  since  we  cannot  rebuild  the  temple,  a 
kiosk  may  be  a  pretty  thing,  may  it  not?  Not  quite 
correct  in  architecture,  strictly  and  classically  criticised; 

xxvi 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

but  presenting  something  uncommon  to  the  eye,  and 
something  fantastic  to  the  imagination,  on  which  the 
spectator  gazes  with  pleasure  of  the  same  description 
which  arises  from  the  perusal  of  an  Eastern  tale. 

Dryasdust.  I  am  unable  to  dispute  with  you  in  meta- 
phor, sir;  but  I  must  say,  in  discharge  of  my  conscience, 
that  you  stand  much  censured  for  adulterating  the  pure 
sources  of  historical  knowledge.  You  approach  them, 
men  say,  Hke  the  drunken  yeoman  who,  once  upon  a 
time,  polluted  the  crystal  spring  which  supplied  the 
thirst  of  his  family,  with  a  score  of  sugar  loaves  and  a 
hogshead  of  rum;  and  thereby  converted  a  simple  and 
wholesome  beverage  into  a  stupifying,  brutifying,  and 
intoxicating  fluid,  sweeter,  indeed,  to  the  taste  than  the 
natural  lymph,  but,  for  that  very  reason,  more  seduc- 
tively dangerous. 

Author.  I  allow  your  metaphor,  doctor;  but  yet, 
though  good  punch  cannot  supply  the  want  of  spring 
water,  it  is,  when  modestly  used,  no  malum  in  se;  and  I 
should  have  thought  it  a  shabby  thing  of  the  parson  of 
the  parish  had  he  helped  to  drink  out  the  well  on  Sat- 
urday night  and  preached  against  the  honest,  hospitable 
yeoman  on  Sunday  morning.  I  should  have  answered 
him  that  the  very  flavour  of  the  liquor  should  have  put 
him  at  once  upon  his  guard ;  and  that,  if  he  had  taken  a 
drop  over  much,  he  ought  to  blame  his  own  imprudence 
more  than  the  hospitality  of  his  entertainer. 

Dryasdust.  I  profess  I  do  not  exactly  see  how  this 
applies. 

Author.  No;  you  are  one  of  those  numerous  dispu- 
tants who  will  never  follow  their  metaphor  a  step  further 
than  it  goes  their  own  way.  I  will  explain.  A  poor  fel- 

xxvii 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

low,  like  myself,  weary  with  ransacking  his  own  barren 
and  bounded  imagination,  looks  out  for  some  general 
subject  in  the  huge  and  boundless  field  of  history,  which 
holds  forth  examples  of  every  kind ;  lights  on  some  per- 
sonage, or  some  combination  of  circumstances,  or  some 
striking  trait  of  manners,' which  he  thinks  may  be 
advantageously  used  as  the  basis  of  a  fictitious  nar- 
rative; bedizens  it  with  such  colouring  as  his  skill  sug- 
gests, ornaments  it  with  such  romantic  circmnstances 
as  may  heighten  the  general  effect,  invests  it  with  such 
shades  of  character  as  will  best  contrast  with  each 
other,  and  thinks,  perhaps,  he  has  done  some  service  to 
the  pubHc,  if  he  can  present  to  them  a  lively  fictitious 
picture,  for  which  the  original  anecdote  or  circum- 
stance which  he  made  free  to  press  into  his  service  only 
furnished  a  slight  sketch.  Now  I  cannot  perceive  any 
harm  in  this.  The  stores  of  history  are  accessible  to 
every  one,  and  are  no  more  exhausted  or  impoverished 
by  the  hints  thus  borrowed  from  them  than  the  fountain 
is  drained  by  the  water  which  we  subtract  for  domestic 
purposes.  And  in  reply  to  the  sober  charge  of  falsehood 
against  a  narrative  announced  positively  to  be  ficti- 
tious, one  can  only  answer  by  Prior's  exclamation  — 

Odzooks,  must  one  swear  to  the  truth  of  a  song? 

Dryasdust.  Nay;  but  I  fear  me  that  you  are  here 
eluding  the  charge.  Men  do  not  seriously  accuse  you  of 
misrepresenting  history;  although  I  assure  you  I  have 
seen  some  grave  treatises  in  which  it  was  thought  neces- 
sary to  contradict  your  assertions. 

Author.  That  certainly  was  to  point  a  discharge  of 
artillery  against  a  wreath  of  morning  mist. 

xxviii 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

Dryasdust.  But  besides,  and  especially,  it  is  said  that 
you  are  in  danger  of  causing  history  to  be  neglected, 
readers  being  contented  with  such  frothy  and  superficial 
knowledge  as  they  acquire  from  your  works,  to  the 
effect  of  inducing  them  to  neglect  the  severer  and  more 
accurate  sources  of  information. 

Author.  I  deny  the  consequence.  On  the  contrary,  I 
rather  hope  that  I  have  turned  the  attention  of  the  pub- 
lic on  various  points  which  have  received  elucidation 
from  writers  of  more  learning  and  research,  in  conse- 
quence of  my  novels  having  attached  some  interest  to 
them.  I  might  give  instances,  but  I  hate  vanity  —  I 
hate  vanity.  The  history  of  the  divining-rod  is  well 
known:  it  is  a  slight,  valueless  twig  in  itself,  but  indi- 
cates, by  its  motion,  where  veins  of  precious  metal  are 
concealed  below  the  earth,  which  afterwards  enrich 
the  adventurers  by  whom  they  are  laboriously  and  care- 
fully wrought.  I  claim  no  more  merit  for  my  historical 
hints;  but  this  is  something. 

Dryasdust.  We  severer  antiquaries,  sir,  may  grant 
that  this  is  true ;  to  wit,  that  your  works  may  occasion- 
ally have  put  men  of  solid  judgment  upon  researches 
which  they  would  not  perhaps  have  otherwise  thought  of 
undertaking.  But  this  will  leave  you  still  accountable 
for  misleading  the  young,  the  indolent,  and  the  giddy, 
by  thrusting  into  their  hands  works  which,  while  they 
have  so  much  the  appearance  of  conveying  information 
as  may  prove  perhaps  a  salve  to  their  consciences  for 
employing  their  leisure  in  the  perusal,  yet  leave  their 
giddy  brains  contented  with  the  crude,  uncertain,  and 
often  false,  statements  which  your  novels  abound  with. 

Author.  It  would  be  very  unbecoming  in  me,  reverend 

xxix 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

sir,  to  accuse  a  gentleman  of  your  cloth  of  cant;  but, 
pray,  is  there  not  something  like  it  in  the  pathos  with 
which  you  enforce  these  dangers?  I  aver,  on  the  con- 
trary, that,  by  introducing  the  busy  and  the  youthful 
to  'truths  severe  in  fairy  fiction  dressed,'  ^  I  am  doing  a 
real  service  to  the  more  ingenious  and  the  more  apt 
among  them;  for  the  love  of  knowledge  wants  but  a 
beginning  —  the  least  spark  will  give  fire  when  the  train 
is  properly  prepared;  and  having  been  interested  in 
fictitious  adventures,  ascribed  to  an  historical  period 
and  characters,  the  reader  begins  next  to  be  anxious  to 
learn  what  the  facts  really  were,  and  how  far  the  novelist 
has  justly  represented  them. 

But  even  where  the  mind  of  the  more  careless  reader 
remains  satisfied  with  the  light  perusal  he  has  afforded 
to  a  tale  of  fiction,  he  will  still  lay  down  the  book  with 
a  degree  of  knowledge,  not  perhaps  of  the  most  accu- 
rate kind,  but  such  as  he  might  not  otherwise  have 
acquired.  Nor  is  this  limited  to  minds  of  a  low  and 
incurious  description;  but,  on  the  contrary,  compre- 
hends many  persons  otherwise  of  high  talents,  who, 
nevertheless,  either  from  lack  of  time  or  of  perseverance, 
are  willing  to  sit  down  contented  with  the  slight  inform- 
ation which  is  acquired  in  such  a  manner.  The  great 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  for  example,  having  quoted  in 
conversation  some  fact  of  Enghsh  history  rather  inac- 
curately, was  requested  to  name  his  authority.  '  Shake- 
speare's historical  plays,'   answered  the  conqueror  of 

1  The  doctor  has  denied  the  Author's  title  to  shelter  himself  under 
this  quotation;  but  the  Author  continues  to  think  himself  entitled  to  all 
the  shelter  which,  threadbare  as  it  is,  it  may  yet  be  able  to  afford  him. 
The  truth  severe  applies  not  to  the  narrative  itself,  but  to  the  moral  it 
conveys,  in  which  the  Author  has  not  been  thought  deficient.  The  '  fairy 
fiction  *  is  the  conduct  of  the  story  which  the  tale  is  invented  to  elucidate. 

XXX 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

Blenheim;  'the  only  English  history  I  ever  read  in  my 
life.'  And  a  hasty  recollection  will  convince  any  of  us 
how  much  better  we  are  acquainted  with  those  parts  of 
English  history  which  that  immortal  bard  has  drama- 
tised than  with  any  other  portion  of  British  story. 

Dryasdust.  And  you,  worthy  sir,  are  ambitious  to 
render  a  similar  service  to  posterity? 

Author.  May  the  saints  forefend  I  should  be  guilty 
of  such  unfounded  vanity!  I  only  show  what  has  been 
done  when  there  were  giants  in  the  land.  We  pigmies  of 
the  present  day  may  at  least,  however,  do  something; 
and  it  is  well  to  keep  a  pattern  before  our  eyes,  though 
that  pattern  be  inimitable. 

Dryasdust.  Well,  sir,  with  me  you  must  have  your 
own  course;  and  for  reasons  well  known  to  you  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  reply  to  you  in  argument.  But  I 
doubt  if  all  you  have  said  will  reconcile  the  public  to 
the  anachronisms  of  your  present  volumes.  Here  you 
have  a  Countess  of  Derby  fetched  out  of  her  cold  grave 
and  saddled  with  a  set  of  adventures  dated  twenty  years 
after  her  death,  besides  being  given  up  as  a  CathoUc 
when  she  was  in  fact  a  zealous  Huguenot. 

Author.  She  may  sue  me  for  damages,  as  in  the  case 
Dido  versus  Virgil. 

Dryasdust.  A  worse  fault  is,  that  your  manners  are 
even  more  incorrect  than  usual.  Your  Puritan  is  faintly 
traced  in  comparison  to  your  Cameronian. 

Author.  I  agree  to  the  charge;  but  although  I  still 
consider  hypocrisy  and  enthusiasm  as  fit  food  for  ridi- 
cule and  satire,  yet  I  am  sensible  of  the  difficulty  of 
holding  fanaticism  up  to  laughter  or  abhorrence  without 
using  colouring  which  may  give  offence  to  the  sincerely 

xxxi 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

worthy  and  religious.  Many  things  are  lawful  which, 
we  are  taught,  are  not  convenient;  and  there  are  many 
tones  of  feeling  which  are  too  respectable  to  be  insulted, 
though  we  do  not  altogether  sympathise  with  them. 

Dryasdust.  Not  to  mention,  my  worthy  sir,  that  per- 
haps you  may  think  the  subject  exhausted, 

AtUhor.  The  devil  take  the  men  of  this  generation 
for  putting  the  worst  construction  on  their  neighbour's 
conduct! 

So  saying,  and  flinging  a  testy  sort  of  adieu  towards 
me  with  his  hand,  he  opened  the  door  and  ran  hastily 
downstairs.  I  started  on  my  feet  and  rang  for  my  serv- 
ant, who  instantly  came.  I  demanded  what  had  be- 
come of  the  stranger.  He  denied  that  any  such  had  been 
admitted.  I  pointed  to  the  empty  decanters,  and  he  — 
he  —  he  had  the  assurance  to  intimate  that  such  vacan- 
cies were  sometimes  made  when  I  had  no  better  com- 
pany than  my  own.  I  do  not  know  what  to  make  of  this 
doubtful  matter,  but  will  certainly  imitate  your  exam- 
ple in  placing  this  dialogue,  with  my  present  letter,  at 
the  head  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

I  am,  Dear  Sir,  very  much, 

Your  faithful  and  obedient  Servant, 

Jonas  Dryasdust. 

Michaelmas  Day,  1822,  York. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


CHAPTER  I 


When  civil  dudgeon  first  grew  high , 
And  men  fell  out,  they  knew  not  why; 
When  foul  words,  jealousies,  and  fears 
Set  folk  together  by  the  ears. 

Butler. 


William,  the  Conqueror  of  England,  was,  or  supposed 
himself  to  be,  the  father  of  a  certain  William  Peveril, 
who  attended  him  to  the  battle  of  Hastings,  and  there 
distinguished  himself.  The  liberal-minded  monarch, 
who  assumed  in  his  charters  the  veritable  title  of  Guliel- 
mus  Bastardus,  was  not  likely  to  let  his  son's  illegitimacy 
be  any  bar  to  the  course  of  his  royal  favour,  when  the 
laws  of  England  were  issued  from  the  mouth  of  the  Nor- 
man victor,  and  the  lands  of  the  Saxons  were  at  his  un- 
limited disposal.  William  Peveril  obtained  a  liberal 
grant  of  property  and  lordships  in  Derbyshire,  and  be- 
came the  erector  of  that  Gothic  fortress  which,  hanging 
over  the  mouth  of  the  Devil's  Cavern,  so  well  known  to 
tourists,  gives  the  name  of  Castleton  to  the  adjacent  vil- 
lage. 

From  this  feudal  baron,  who  chose  his  nest  upon  the 
principles  on  which  an  eagle  selects  her  eyrie,  and  built 
it  in  such  a  fashion  as  if  he  had  intended  it,  as  an  Irish- 
man said  of  the  Martello  towers,  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
puzzling  posterity,  there  was,  or  conceived  themselves 

87  I 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  be,  descended  (for  their  pedigree  was  rather  hypo- 
thetical) an  opulent  family  of  knightly  rank,  in  the  same 
county  of  Derby.  The  great  fief  of  Castleton,  with  its 
adjacent  wastes  and  forests,  and  all  the  wonders  which 
they  contain,  had  been  forfeited  in  King  John's  stormy 
days  by  one  William  Peveril,  and  had  been  granted  anew 
to  the  Lord  Ferrers  of  that  day.  Yet  this  WilHam's  de- 
scendants, though  no  longer  possessed  of  what  they  al- 
leged to  have  been  their  original  property,  were  long  dis- 
tinguished by  the  proud  title  of  Peverils  of  the  Peak, 
which  served  to  mark  their  high  descent  and  lofty  pre- 
tensions. 

In  Charles  the  Second's  time,  the  representative  of  this 
ancient  family  was  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  a  man  who  had 
many  of  the  ordinary  attributes  of  an  old-fashioned 
country  gentleman,  and  very  few  individual  traits  to 
distinguish  him  from  the  general  portrait  of  that  worthy 
class  of  mankind.  He  was  proud  of  small  advantages, 
angry  at  small  disappointments,  incapable  of  forming 
any  resolution  or  opinion  abstracted  from  his  own  pre- 
judices; he  was  proud  of  his  birth,  lavish  in  his  house- 
keeping, convivial  with  those  kindred  and  acquaintances 
who  would  allow  his  superiority  in  rank;  contentious  and 
quarrelsome  with  all  that  crossed  his  pretensions;  kind 
to  the  poor,  except  when  they  plundered  his  game;  a 
Royalist  in  his  political  opinions,  and  one  who  detested 
alike  a  Roundhead,  a  poacher,  and  a  Presbyterian.  In 
religion,  Sir  Geoffrey  was  a  High  Churchman  of  so  ex- 
alted a  strain  that  many  thought  he  still  nourished  in 
private  the  Roman  Catholic  tenets,  which  his  family 
had  only  renounced  in  his  father's  time,  and  that  he  had 
a  dispensation  for  conforming  in  outward  observances 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  the  Protestant  faith.  There  was  at  least  such  a  scan- 
dal amongst  the  Puritans,  and  the  influence  which  Sir 
Geoffrey  Peveril  certainly  appeared  to  possess  amongst 
the  Catholic  gentlemen  of  Derbyshire  and  Cheshire 
seemed  to  give  countenance  to  the  rumour. 

Such  was  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  might  have  passed  to  his 
grave  without  further  distinction  than  a  brass  plate  in  the 
chancel,  had  he  not  lived  in  times  which  forced  the  most 
inactive  spirits  into  exertion,  as  a  tempest  influences  the 
sluggish  waters  of  the  deadest  meer.  When  the  Civil  Wars 
broke  out,  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  proud  from  pedigree  and 
brave  by  constitution,  raised  a  regiment  for  the  King,  and 
showed  upon  several  occasions  more  capacity  for  com- 
mand than  men  had  heretofore  given  him  credit  for. 

Even  in  the  midst  of  the  civil  turmoil,  he  fell  in  love 
with,  and  married,  a  beautiful  and  amiable  young  lady 
of  the  noble  house  of  Stanley;  and  from  that  time  had 
the  more  merit  in  his  loyalty,  as  it  divorced  him  from 
her  society,  unless  at  very  brief  intervals,  when  his  duty 
permitted  an  occasional  visit  to  his  home.  Scorning  to 
be  allured  from  his  miHtary  duty  by  domestic  induce- 
ments, Peveril  of  the  Peak  fought  on  for  several  rough 
years  of  civil  war,  and  performed  his  part  with  sufficient 
gallantry,  until  his  regiment  was  surprised  and  cut  to 
pieces  by  Poyntz,  Cromwell's  enterprising  and  successful 
general  of  cavalry.  The  defeated  Cavalier  escaped  from 
the  field  of  battle,  and,  like  a  true  descendant  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  disdaining  submission,  threw  himself 
into  his  own  castellated  mansion,  which  was  attacked 
and  defended  in  a  siege  of  that  irregular  kind  which 
caused  the  destruction  of  so  many  baronial  residences 
during  the  course  of  those  unhappy  wars.   Martindale 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Castle,  after  having  suffered  severely  from  the  cannon 
which  Cromwell  himself  brought  against  it,  was  at 
length  surrendered  when  in  the  last  extremity.  Sir 
Geoffrey  himself  became  a  prisoner,  and  while  his  liberty 
was  only  restored  upon  a  promise  of  remaining  a  peace- 
ful subject  to  the  Commonwealth  in  future,  his  former 
delinquencies,  as  they  were  termed  by  the  ruling  party, 
were  severely  punished  by  fine  and  sequestration. 

But  neither  his  forced  promise  nor  the  fear  of  further 
impleasant  consequences  to  his  person  or  property  could 
prevent  Peveril  of  the  Peak  from  joining  the  gallant  Earl 
of  Derby  the  night  before  the  fatal  engagement  in  Wig- 
gan  Lane,  where  the  earl's  forces  were  dispersed.  Sir 
Geoffrey,  having  had  his  share  in  that  action,  escaped 
with  the  rehcs  of  the  Royahsts  after  the  defeat,  to  join 
Charles  II.  He  witnessed  also  the  final  defeat  of  Wor- 
cester, where  he  was  a  second  time  made  prisoner;  and 
as,  in  the  opinion  of  Cromwell  and  the  language  of  the 
times,  he  was  regarded  as  an  obstinate  Malignant,  he 
was  in  great  danger  of  having  shared  with  the  Earl  of 
Derby  his  execution  at  Bolton-le-Moors,  having  par- 
taken with  him  the  dangers  of  two  actions.  But  Sir 
Geoffrey's  Hfe  was  preserved  by  the  interest  of  a  friend, 
who  possessed  influence  in  the  councils  of  Ohver.  This 
was  a  Mr.  Bridgenorth,  a  gentleman  of  middhng  quaUty, 
whose  father  had  been  successful  in  some  commercial 
adventure  during  the  peaceful  reign  of  James  I ;  and  who 
had  bequeathed  his  son  a  considerable  sum  of  money, 
in  addition  to  the  moderate  patrimony  which  he  inher- 
ited from  his  father. 

The  substantial,  though  small-sized,  brick  building  of 
Moultrassie  Hall  was  but  two  miles  distant  from  Mar- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tindale  Castle,  and  the  young  Bridgenorth  attended  the 
same  school  with  the  heir  of  the  Peverils.  A  sort  of  com- 
panionship, if  not  intimacy,  took  place  betwixt  them, 
which  continued  during  their  youthful  sports  —  the 
rather  that  Bridgenorth,  though  he  did  not  at  heart 
admit  Sir  Geoffrey's  claims  of  superiority  to  the  extent 
which  the  other's  vanity  would  have  exacted,  paid  defer- 
ence in  a  reasonable  degree  to  the  representative  of  a 
family  so  much  more  ancient  and  important  than  his 
own,  without  conceiving  that  he  in  any  respect  degraded 
himself  by  doing  so. 

Mr.  Bridgenorth  did  not,  however,  carry  his  com- 
plaisance so  far  as  to  embrace  Sir  Geoffrey's  side  during 
the  Civil  War.  On  the  contrary,  as  an  active  justice  of 
the  peace,  he  rendered  much  assistance  in  arraying  the 
militia  in  the  cause  of  the  Parliament,  and  for  some  time 
held  a  military  commission  in  that  service.  This  was 
partly  owing  to  his  rehgious  principles,  for  he  was  a 
zealous  Presbyterian,  partly  to  his  political  ideas,  which, 
without  being  absolutely  democratical,  favoured  the 
popular  side  of  the  great  national  question.  Besides,  he 
was  a  moneyed  man,  and  to  a  certain  extent  had  a  shrewd 
eye  to  his  worldly  interest.  He  understood  how  to  im- 
prove the  opportunities  which  civil  war  afforded  of  ad- 
vancing his  fortune,  by  a  dexterous  use  of  his  capital; 
and  he  was  not  at  a  loss  to  perceive  that  these  were 
hkely  to  be  obtained  by  joining  the  Parliament;  while 
the  King's  cause,  as  it  was  managed,  held  out  nothing 
to  the  wealthy  but  a  course  of  exaction  and  compulsory 
loans.  For  these  reasons,  Bridgenorth  became  a  decided 
Roundhead,  and  all  friendly  communication  betwixt 
his  neighbour  and  him  was  abruptly  broken  asunder. 

S 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

This  was  done  with  the  less  acrimony  that,  during  the 
Civil  War,  Sir  Geoffrey  was  almost  constantly  in  the 
field,  following  the  vacillating  and  unhappy  fortunes  of 
his  master;  while  Major  Bridgenorth,  who  soon  re- 
nounced active  miUtary  service,  resided  chiefly  in  Lon- 
don, and  only  occasionally  visited  the  hall. 

Upon  these  visits,  it  was  with  great  pleasure  he  re- 
ceived the  intelHgence  that  Lady  Peveril  had  shown 
much  kindness  to  Mrs.  Bridgenorth,  and  had  actually 
given  her  and  her  family  shelter  in  Martindale  Castle 
when  Moultrassie  Hall  was  threatened  with  pillage  by 
a  body  of  Prince  Rupert's  ill-disciplined  Cavaliers.  This 
acquaintance  had  been  matured  by  frequent  walks  to- 
gether, which  the  vicinity  of  their  places  of  residence 
suffered  the  Lady  Peveril  to  have  with  Mrs.  Bridgenorth, 
who  deemed  herself  much  honoured  in  being  thus  ad- 
mitted into  the  society  of  so  distinguished  a  lady.  Ma- 
jor Bridgenorth  heard  of  this  growing  intimacy  with 
great  pleasure,  and  he  determined  to  repay  the  obliga- 
tion, as  far  as  he  could  without  much  hurt  to  himself, 
by  interfering  with  all  his  influence  in  behalf  of  her 
unfortunate  husband.  It  was  chiefly  owing  to  Major 
Bridgenorth's  mediation  that  Sir  Geoffrey's  life  was 
saved  after  the  battle  of  Worcester.  He  obtained  him 
permission  to  compound  for  his  estate  on  easier  terms 
than  many  who  had  been  less  obstinate  in  malignancy; 
and  finally,  when,  in  order  to  raise  the  money  to  the 
composition,  the  knight  was  obliged  to  sell  a  consider- 
able portion  of  his  patrimony.  Major  Bridgenorth  be- 
came the  purchaser,  and  that  at  a  larger  price  than  had 
been  paid  to  any  Cavalier  under  such  circumstances  by 
a  member  of  the  Committee  for  Sequestrations.    It  is 

6 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

true,  the  prudent  committeeman  did  not,  by  any  means, 
lose  sight  of  his  own  interest  in  the  transaction,  for  the 
price  was,  after  all,  very  moderate,  and  the  property  lay 
adjacent  to  Moultrassie  Hall,  the  value  of  which  was  at 
least  trebled  by  the  acquisition.  But  then  it  was  also 
true  that  the  unfortunate  owner  must  have  submitted  to 
much  worse  conditions  had  the  committeeman  used,  as 
others  did,  the  full  advantages  which  his  situation  gave 
him;  and  Bridgenorth  took  credit  to  himself,  and  re- 
ceived it  from  others,  for  having,  on  this  occasion,  fairly 
sacrificed  his  interest  to  his  liberality. 

Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  was  of  the  same  opinion,  and  the 
rather  that  Mr.  Bridgenorth  seemed  to  bear  his  exulta- 
tion with  great  moderation,  and  was  disposed  to  show 
him  personally  the  same  deference  in  his  present  sunshine 
of  prosperity  which  he  had  exhibited  formerly  in  their 
early  acquaintance.  It  is  but  justice  to  Major  Bridge- 
north  to  observe  that  in  this  conduct  he  paid  respect  as 
much  to  the  misfortunes  as  to  the  pretensions  of  his  far- 
descended  neighbour,  and  that,  with  the  frank  generosity 
of  a  blunt  Englishman,  he  conceded  points  of  ceremony, 
about  which  he  himself  was  indifferent,  merely  because 
he  saw  that  his  doing  so  gave  pleasure  to  Sir  Geoffrey. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak  did  justice  to  his  neighbour's  deli- 
cacy, in  consideration  of  which  he  forgot  many  things. 
He  forgot  that  Major  Bridgenorth  was  already  in  pos- 
session of  a  fair  third  of  his  estate,  and  had  various 
pecuniary  claims  affecting  the  remainder  to  the  extent  of 
one-third  more.  He  endeavoured  even  to  forget  what 
it  was  still  more  difficult  not  to  remember,  the  altered 
situation  in  which  they  and  their  mansions  now  stood 
to  each  other. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Before  the  Civil  War,  the  superb  battlements  and  tur- 
rets of  Martindale  Castle  looked  down  on  the  red  brick- 
built  hall,  as  it  stole  out  from  the  green  plantations,  just 
as  an  oak  in  Martindale  Chase  would  have  looked  beside 
one  of  the  stunted  and  formal  young  beech-trees  with 
which  Bridgenorth  had  graced  his  avenue;  but  after  the 
siege  which  we  have  commemorated  the  enlarged  and 
augmented  hall  was  as  much  predominant  in  the  land- 
scape over  the  shattered  and  blackened  ruins  of  the  castle, 
of  which  only  one  wing  was  left  habitable,  as  the  youthful 
beech,  in  all  its  vigour  of  shoot  and  bud,  would  appear 
to  the  same  aged  oak  stripped  of  its  boughs  and  rifted  by 
lightning,  one  half  laid  in  shivers  on  the  ground,  and  the 
other  remaining  a  blackened  and  ungraceful  trunk,  rent 
and  splintered,  and  without  either  life  or  leaves.  Sir 
Geoffrey  could  not  but  feel  that  the  situation  and  pro- 
spects of  the  two  neighbours  were  exchanged  as  disad- 
vantageously  for  himself  as  the  appearance  of  their 
mansions ;  and  that,  though  the  authority  of  the  man  in 
office  under  the  Parliament,  the  sequestrator  and  the 
committeeman,  had  been  only  exerted  for  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Cavalier  and  the  Mahgnant,  they  would  have 
been  as  effectual  if  applied  to  procure  his  utter  ruin,  and 
that  he  was  become  a  client  while  his  neighbour  was  ele- 
vated into  a  patron. 

There  were  two  considerations,  besides  the  necessity 
of  the  case  and  the  constant  advice  of  his  lady,  which  en- 
abled Peveril  of  the  Peak  to  endure,  with  some  patience, 
this  state  of  degradation.  The  first  was,  that  the  poh tics  of 
Major  Bridgenorth  began,  on  many  points,  to  assimilate 
themselves  to  his  own.  As  a  Presbyterian,  he  was  not 
an  utter  enemy  to  monarchy,  and  had  been  considerably 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

shocked  at  the  unexpected  trial  and  execution  of  the 
King;  as  a  civilian  and  a  man  of  property,  he  feared  the 
domination  of  the  military;  and  though  he  wished  not 
to  see  Charles  restored  by  force  of  arms,  yet  he  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  to  bring  back  the  heir  of  the  royal 
family,  on  such  terms  of  composition  as  might  ensure  the 
protection  of  those  popular  immunities  and  privileges 
for  which  the  Long  Parliament  had  at  first  contended, 
would  be  the  surest  and  most  desirable  termination  to 
the  mutations  in  state  affairs  which  had  agitated  Brit- 
ain. Indeed,  the  major's  ideas  on  this  point  approached 
so  nearly  those  of  his  neighbour  that  he  had  wellnigh 
suffered  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  had  a  finger  in  almost  all  the 
conspiracies  of  the  Royalists,  to  involve  him  in  the  un- 
fortunate rising  of  Penruddock  and  Groves  in  the  west, 
in  which  many  of  the  Presbyterian  interest,  as  well 
as  the  Cavalier  party,  were  engaged.  And  though  his 
habitual  prudence  eventually  kept  him  out  of  this  and 
other  dangers.  Major  Bridgenorth  was  considered,  dur- 
ing the  last  years  of  Cromwell's  domination  and  the 
interregnum  which  succeeded,  as  a  disaffected  person 
to  the  Commonwealth  and  a  favourer  of  Charles  Stuart. 
But,  besides  this  approximation  to  the  same  political 
opinions,  another  bond  of  intimacy  united  the  families 
of  the  castle  and  the  hall.  Major  Bridgenorth,  fortun- 
ate, and  eminently  so,  in  all  his  worldly  transactions, 
was  visited  by  severe  and  reiterated  misfortunes  in  his 
family,  and  became,  in  this  particular,  an  object  of 
compassion  to  his  poorer  and  more  decayed  neighbour. 
Betwixt  the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  War  and  the 
Restoration,  he  lost  successively  a  family  of  no  less  than 
six  children,  apparently  through  a  delicacy  of  constitu- 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tion,  which  cut  off  the  little  prattlers  at  the  early  age 
when  they  most  wind  themselves  around  the  heart  of 
the  parents. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1658,  Major  Bridgenorth 
was  childless;  ere  it  ended,  he  had  a  daughter,  indeed, 
but  her  birth  was  purchased  by  the  death  of  an  affec- 
tionate wife,  whose  constitution  had  been  exhausted  by 
maternal  grief,  and  by  the  anxious  and  harrowing  re- 
flection that  from  her  the  children  they  had  lost  derived 
that  delicacy  of  health  which  proved  unable  to  undergo 
the  tear  and  wear  of  existence.  The  same  voice  which 
told  Bridgenorth  that  he  was  father  of  a  living  child  (it 
was  the  friendly  voice  of  Lady  Peveril)  communicated 
to  him  the  melancholy  intelligence  that  he  was  no  longer 
a  husband.  The  feelings  of  Major  Bridgenorth  were 
strong  and  deep,  rather  than  hasty  and  vehement;  and 
his  grief  assumed  the  form  of  a  sullen  stupor,  from  which 
neither  the  friendly  remonstrances  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  who 
did  not  fail  to  be  with  his  neighbour  at  this  distressing 
conjuncture,  even  though  he  knew  he  must  meet  the 
Presbyterian  pastor,  nor  the  ghostly  exhortations  of 
this  latter  person,  were  able  to  rouse  the  unfortunate 
widower. 

At  length  Lady  Peveril,  with  the  ready  invention  of  a 
female  sharpened  by  the  sight  of  distress  and  the  feelings 
of  S3rmpathy,  tried  on  the  sufferer  one  of  those  experi- 
ments by  which  grief  is  often  awakened  from  despond- 
ency into  tears.  She  placed  in  Bridgenorth's  arms  the  in- 
fant whose  birth  had  cost  him  so  dear,  and  conjured  him 
to  remember  that  his  Alice  was  not  yet  dead,  since  she 
survived  in  the  helpless  child  she  had  left  to  his  paternal 
care. 

10 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*  Take  her  away  —  take  her  away ! '  said  the  unhappy 
man,  and  they  were  the  first  words  he  had  spoken :  'let 
me  not  look  on  her;  it  is  but  another  blossom  that  has 
bloomed  to  fade,  and  the  tree  that  bore  it  will  never 
flourish  more ! ' 

He  almost  threw  the  child  into  Lady  Peveril's  arms, 
placed  his  hands  before  his  face,  and  wept  aloud.  Lady 
Peveril  did  not  say  'Be  comforted,'  but  she  ventured  to 
promise  that  the  blossom  should  ripen  to  fruit. 

'Never  —  never!' said  Bridgenorth;  'take  the  un- 
happy child  away,  and  let  me  only  know  when  I  shall 
wear  black  for  her.  Wear  black!'  he  exclaimed,  inter- 
rupting himself,  'what  other  colour  shall  I  wear  during 
the  remainder  of  my  life? ' 

'I  will  take  the  child  for  a  season,'  said  Lady  Peveril, 
'since  the  sight  of  her  is  so  painful  to  you;  and  the 
little  AHce  shall  share  the  nursery  of  our  JuHan,  until 
it  shall  be  pleasure  and  not  pain  for  you  to  look  on 
her.' 

'That  hour  will  never  come,'  said  the  unhappy  father; 
'her  doom  is  written  —  she  will  follow  the  rest  —  God's 
will  be  done.  Lady,  I  thank  you  —  I  trust  her  to  your 
care;  and  I  thank  God  that  my  eye  shall  not  see  her 
dying  agonies.' 

Without  detaining  the  reader's  attention  longer  on 
this  painful  theme,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  the  Lady 
Peveril  did  undertake  the  duties  of  a  mother  to  the  little 
orphan;  and  perhaps  it  was  owing,  in  a  great  measure, 
to  her  judicious  treatment  of  the  infant  that  its  feeble 
hold  of  life  was  preserved,  since  the  glimmering  spark 
might  probably  have  been  altogether  smothered,  had  it, 
like  the  major's  former  children,  undergone  the  over- 

II 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

care  and  over-nursing  of  a  mother  rendered  nervously 
cautious  and  anxious  by  so  many  successive  losses.  The 
lady  was  the  more  ready  to  undertake  this  charge,  that 
she  herself  had  lost  two  infant  children;  and  that  she 
attributed  the  preservation  of  the  third,  now  a  fine 
healthy  child  of  three  years  old,  to  Julian's  being  sub- 
jected to  rather  a  different  course  of  diet  and  treatment 
than  was  then  generally  practised.  She  resolved  to  fol- 
low the  same  regimen  with  the  little  orphan  which  she 
had  observed  in  the  case  of  her  own  boy;  and  it  was 
equally  successful.  By  a  more  sparing  use  of  medicine, 
by  a  bolder  admission  of  fresh  air,  by  a  firm,  yet  cau- 
tious, attention  to  encourage  rather  than  to  supersede 
the  exertions  of  nature,  the  puny  infant,  under  the  care 
of  an  excellent  nurse,  gradually  improved  in  strength 
and  in  liveHness. 

Sir  Geoffrey,  like  most  men  of  his  frank  and  good- 
natured  disposition,  was  naturally  fond  of  children,  and 
so  much  compassionated  the  sorrows  of  his  neighbour 
that  he  entirely  forgot  his  being  a  Presbyterian,  until  it 
became  necessary  that  the  infant  should  be  christened 
by  a  teacher  of  that  persuasion. 

This  was  a  trying  case:  the  father  seemed  incapable 
of  giving  direction,  and  that  the  threshold  of  Martindale 
Castle  should  be  violated  by  the  heretical  step  of  a  dis- 
senting clergyman  was  matter  of  horror  to  its  orthodox 
owner.  He  had  seen  the  famous  Hugh  Peters,  with  a 
Bible  in  one  hand  and  a  pistol  in  the  other,  ride  in  tri- 
umph through  the  court-door  when  IMartindale  was 
surrendered ;  and  the  bitterness  of  that  hour  had  entered 
like  iron  into  his  soul.  Yet  such  was  Lady  Peveril's 
influence  over  the  prejudices  of  her  husband,  that  he 

12 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

was  induced  to  connive  at  the  ceremony  taking  place  in 
a  remote  garden-house,  which  was  not  properly  within 
the  precincts  of  the  castle  wall.  The  lady  even  dared  to 
be  present  while  the  ceremony  was  performed  by  the 
Reverend  Master  Solsgrace,  who  had  once  preached  a 
sermon  of  three  hours'  length  before  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, upon  a  thanksgiving  occasion  after  the  rehef  of 
Exeter.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  took  care  to  be  absent  the 
whole  day  from  the  castle,  and  it  was  only  from  the 
great  interest  which  he  took  in  the  washing,  perfuming, 
and  as  it  were  purification,  of  the  summer-house  that  it 
could  have  been  guessed  he  knew  anything  of  what  had 
taken  place  in  it. 

But,  whatever  prejudices  the  good  knight  might  en- 
tertain against  his  neighbour's  form  of  reHgion,  they  did 
not  in  any  way  influence  his  feehngs  towards  him  as  a 
sufferer  under  severe  affliction.  The  mode  in  which  he 
showed  his  sympathy  was  rather  singular,  but  exactly 
suited  the  character  of  both,  and  the  terms  on  which 
they  stood  with  each  other. 

Morning  after  morning  the  good  baronet  made  Moul- 
trassie  Hall  the  termination  of  his  walk  or  ride,  and  said 
a  single  word  of  kindness  as  he  passed.  Sometimes  he 
entered  the  old  parlour  where  the  proprietor  sat  in  soli- 
tary wretchedness  and  despondency;  but  more  fre- 
quently, for  Sir  Geoffrey  did  not  pretend  to  great  talents 
of  conversation,  he  paused  on  the  terrace,  and  stopping 
or  halting  his  horse  by  the  latticed  window,  said  aloud 
to  the  melancholy  inmate,  'How  is  it  with  you,  Master 
Bridgenorth?  (the  knight  would  never  acknowledge  his 
neighbour's  miUtary  rank  of  major) ;  I  just  looked  in  to 
bid  you  keep  a  good  heart,  man,  and  to  tell  you  that 

13 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Julian  is  well,  and  little  Alice  is  well,  and  all  are  well  at 
Martindale  Castle.' 

A  deep  sigh,  sometimes  coupled  with  *I  thank  you. 
Sir  Geoffrey;  my  grateful  duty  waits  on  Lady  Peveril,' 
was  generally  Bridgenorth's  only  answer.  But  the  news 
was  received  on  the  one  part  with  the  kindness  which 
was  designed  upon  the  other;  it  gradually  became  less 
painful  and  more  interesting;  the  lattice  window  was 
never  closed,  nor  was  the  leathern  easy-chair,  which 
stood  next  to  it,  ever  empty,  when  the  usual  hour  of  the 
baronet's  momentary  visit  approached.  At  length  the 
expectation  of  that  passing  minute  became  the  pivot 
upon  which  the  thoughts  of  poor  Bridgenorth  turned 
during  all  the  rest  of  the  day.  Most  men  have  known 
the  influence  of  such  brief  but  ruling  moments  at  some 
period  of  their  lives.  The  moment  when  a  lover  passes 
the  window  of  his  mistress,  the  moment  when  the  epi- 
cure hears  the  dinner-bell,  is  that  into  which  is  crowded 
the  whole  interest  of  the  day;  the  hours  which  precede 
it  are  spent  in  anticipation,  the  hours  which  follow  in 
reflection  on  what  has  passed;  and  fancy,  dwelling  on 
each  brief  circumstance,  gives  to  seconds  the  duration 
of  minutes,  to  minutes  that  of  hours.  Thus,  seated  in  his 
lonely  chair,  Bridgenorth  could  catch  at  a  distance  the 
stately  step  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  or  the  heavy  tramp  of  his 
war-horse.  Black  Hastings,  which  had  borne  him  in 
many  an  action;  he  could  hear  the  hum  of  'The  King 
shall  enjoy  his  own  again,'  or  the  habitual  whistle  of 
'Cuckolds  and  Roundheads,'  die  into  reverential  silence, 
as  the  knight  approached  the  mansion  of  affliction ;  and 
then  came  the  strong,  hale  voice  of  the  huntsman- 
soldier  with  its  usual  greeting. 

14 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

By  degrees  the  communication  became  something 
more  protracted,  as  Major  Bridgenorth's  grief,  like  all 
human  feelings,  lost  its  overwhelming  violence,  and 
permitted  him  to  attend,  in  some  degree,  to  what  passed 
around  him,  to  discharge  various  duties  which  pressed 
upon  him,  and  to  give  a  share  of  attention  to  the  situa- 
tion of  the  country,  distracted  as  it  was  by  the  contend- 
ing factions,  whose  strife  only  terminated  in  the  Restor- 
ation. Still,  however,  though  slowly  recovering  from 
the  effects  of  the  shock  which  he  had  sustained,  Major 
Bridgenorth  felt  himself  as  yet  unable  to  make  up  his 
mind  to  the  effort  necessary  to  see  his  infant ;  and  though 
separated  by  so  short  a  distance  from  the  being  in  whose 
existence  he  was  more  interested  than  in  anything  the 
world  afforded,  he  only  made  himself  acquainted  with 
the  windows  of  the  apartment  where  little  Alice  was 
lodged,  and  was  often  observed  to  watch  them  from  the 
terrace,  as  they  brightened  in  the  evening  under  the 
influence  of  the  setting  sun.  In  truth,  though  a  strong- 
minded  man  in  most  respects,  he  was  unable  to  lay  aside 
the  gloomy  impression  that  this  remaining  pledge  of 
affection  was  soon  to  be  conveyed  to  that  grave  which 
had  already  devoured  all  besides  that  was  dear  to  him ; 
and  he  awaited  in  miserable  suspense  the  moment  when 
he  should  hear  that  sjonptoms  of  the  fatal  malady  had 
begun  to  show  themselves. 

The  voice  of  Peveril  continued  to  be  that  of  a  com- 
forter, until  the  month  of  April,  1660,  when  it  suddenly 
assumed  a  new  and  different  tone.  'The  King  shall 
enjoy  his  own  again,'  far  from  ceasing,  as  the  hasty 
tread  of  Black  Hastings  came  up  the  avenue,  bore 
burden  to  the  clatter  of  his  hoofs  on  the  paved  court- 

15 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

yard,  as  Sir  Geoffrey  sprang  from  his  great  war-saddle, 
now  once  more  garnished  with  pistols  of  two  feet  in 
length,  and,  armed  with  steel-cap,  back  and  breast,  and 
a  truncheon  in  his  hand,  he  rushed  into  the  apartment 
of  the  astonished  major,  with  his  eyes  sparkUng  and  his 
cheek  inflamed,  while  he  called  out,  'Up!  —  up,  neigh- 
bour! No  time  now  to  mope  in  the  chimney-corner! 
Where  is  your  buff-coat  and  broadsword,  man?  Take 
the  true  side  once  in  your  life,  and  mend  past  mistakes. 
The  King  is  all  lenity,  man  —  all  royal  nature  and 
mercy.  I  will  get  your  full  pardon.' 

'What  means  all  this?'  said  Bridgenorth.  'Is  all  well 
with  you  —  all  well  at  Martindale  Castle,  Sir  Geoffrey?  * 

'Well  as  you  could  wish  them,  Alice  and  Juhan  and 
all.  But  I  have  news  worth  twenty  of  that.  Monk  has 
declared  at  London  against  those  stinking  scoundrels 
the  Rump.  Fairfax  is  up  in  Yorkshire  for  the  King  — 
for  the  King,  man !  Churchmen,  Presbyterians,  and  all, 
are  in  buff  and  bandelier  for  King  Charles.  I  have  a  let- 
ter from  Fairfax  to  secure  Derby  and  Chesterfield,  with 
all  the  men  I  can  make.  D — n  him,  fine  that  I  should 
take  orders  from  him!  But  never  mind  that!  all  are 
friends  now,  and  you  and  I,  good  neighbour,  will  charge 
abreast,  as  good  neighbours  should.  See  there!  read  — 
read  —  read ;  and  then  boot  and  saddle  in  an  instant. 

Hey  for  cavaliers,  ho  for  cavaliers, 
Pray  for  cavaliers, 

Dub-a-dub,  dub-a-dub, 

Have  at  old  Beelzebub, 
Oliver  shakes  in  his  bier!' 

After  thundering  forth  this  elegant  effusion  of  loyal 
enthusiasm,  the  sturdy  Cavaher's  heart  became  too  full. 

i6 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

He  threw  himself  on  a  seat,  and  exclaiming,  'Did  ever  I 
think  to  live  to  see  this  happy  day ! '  he  wept,  to  his  own 
surprise,  as  much  as  to  that  of  Bridgenorth. 

Upon  considering  the  crisis  in  which  the  country  was 
placed,  it  appeared  to  Major  Bridgenorth,  as  it  had  done 
to  Fairfax  and  other  leaders  of  the  Presbyterian  party, 
that  their  frank  embracing  of  the  Royal  interest  was  the 
wisest  and  most  patriotic  measure  which  they  could 
adopt  in  the  circumstances,  when  all  ranks  and  classes 
of  men  were  seeking  refuge  from  the  uncertainty  and 
varied  oppression  attending  the  repeated  contests 
between  the  factions  of  Westminster  Hall  and  of  Wal- 
lingford  House.  Accordingly,  he  joined  with  Sir 
Geoffrey,  with  less  enthusiasm  indeed,  but  with  equal 
sincerity,  taking  such  measures  as  seemed  proper  to 
secure  their  part  of  the  country  on  the  King's  behalf, 
which  was  done  as  effectually  and  peaceably  as  in  other 
parts  of  England.  The  neighbours  were  both  at  Chester- 
field when  news  arrived  that  the  King  had  landed  in 
England;  and  Sir  Geoffrey  instantly  announced  his 
purpose  of  waiting  upon  his  Majesty,  even  before  his 
return  to  the  Castle  of  Martindale. 

*Who  knows,  neighbour,'  he  said,  'whether  Sir 
Geoffrey  Peveril  will  ever  return  to  Martindale?  Titles 
must  be  going  amongst  them  yonder,  and  I  have  de- 
served something  among  the  rest.  Lord  Peveril  would 
sound  well  —  or  stay,  Earl  of  Martindale  —  no,  not  of 
Martindale  —  Earl  of  the  Peak.  Meanwhile,  trust  your 
affairs  to  me  —  I  will  see  you  secured.  I  would  you  had 
been  no  Presbyterian,  neighbour  —  a  knighthood  —  I 
mean  a  knight-bachelor,  not  a  knight-baronet  —  would 
have  served  your  turn  well.' 

87  17 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  leave  these  things  to  my  betters,  Sir  Geoffrey/  said 
the  major,  *  and  desire  nothing  so  earnestly  as  to  find  all 
well  at  Martindale  when  I  return.' 

'You  will  —  you  will  find  them  all  well,'  said  the 
baronet  —  'Julian,  Alice,  Lady  Peveril,  and  all  of  them. 
Bear  my  commendations  to  them,  and  kiss  them  all, 
neighbour,  Lady  Peveril  and  all;  you  may  kiss  a  countess 
when  I  come  back:  all  will  go  well  with  you  now  you 
are  turned  honest  man.' 

*I  always  meant  to  be  so,  Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  Bridge- 
north,  calmly. 

'Well  —  well  —  well,  no  offence  meant,'  said  the 
knight,  'all  is  well  now;  so  you  to  Moultrassie  Hall,  and 
I  to  Whitehall.  Said  I  well,  aha?  So  ho,  mine  host,  a 
stoup  of  canary  to  the  King's  health  ere  we  get  to  horse. 
I  forgot,  neighbour,  you  drink  no  healths.' 

'I  wish  the  King's  health  as  sincerely  as  if  I  drank  a 
gallon  to  it,'  repHed  the  major;  'and  I  wish  you,  Sir 
Geoffrey,  all  success  on  your  journey,  and  a  safe  return.' 


CHAPTER  II 

Why  then,  we  will  have  bellowing  of  beeves, 

Broaching  of  barrels,  brandishing  of  spigots; 

Blood  shall  flow  freely,  but  it  shall  be  gore 

Of  herds  and  flocks,  and  venison  and  poultry, 

Join'd  to  the  brave  heart's  blood  of  John-a-Barleycoml 

Old  Play. 

Whatever  rewards  Charles  might  have  condescended 
to  bestow  in  acknowledgment  of  the  sufferings  and  loy- 
alty of  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  he  had  none  in  his  disposal 
equal  to  the  pleasure  which  Providence  had  reserved  for 
Bridgenorth  on  his  return  to  Derbyshire.  The  exertion 
to  which  he  had  been  summoned  had  had  the  usual 
effect  of  restoring  to  a  certain  extent  the  activity  and 
energy  of  his  character,  and  he  felt  it  would  be  unbecom- 
ing to  relapse  into  the  state  of  lethargic  melancholy  from 
which  it  had  roused  him.  Time  also  had  its  usual  effect 
in  mitigating  the  subjects  of  his  regret;  and  when  he 
had  passed  one  day  at  the  hall  in  regretting  that  he  could 
not  expect  the  indirect  news  of  his  daughter's  health 
which  Sir  Geoffrey  used  to  communicate  in  his  almost 
daily  call,  he  reflected  that  it  would  be  in  every  respect 
becoming  that  he  should  pay  a  personal  visit  at  Martin- 
dale  Castle,  carry  thither  the  remembrances  of  the 
knight  to  his  lady,  assure  her  of  his  health,  and  satisfy 
himself  respecting  that  of  his  daughter.  He  armed  him- 
self for  the  worst:  he  called  to  recollection  the  thin 
cheeks,  faded  eye,  wasted  hand,  pallid  lip,  which  had 
marked  the  decaying  health  of  all  his  former  infants. 
*I  shall  see,'  he  said,  'these  signs  of  mortality  once 

19 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

more:  I  shall  once  more  see  a  beloved  being  to  whom  I 
have  given  birth  gliding  to  the  grave  which  ought  to 
inclose  me  long  before  her.  No  matter!  it  is  unmanly 
so  long  to  shrink  from  that  which  must  be  —  God's  will 
be  done!' 

He  went  accordingly,  on  the  subsequent  morning,  to 
Martindale  Castle,  and  gave  the  lady  the  welcome  assur- 
ances of  her  husband's  safety,  and  of  his  hopes  of  pre- 
ferment. 

'For  the  first,  may  Almighty  God  be  praised!'  said 
the  Lady  Peveril ; '  and  be  the  other  as  our  gracious  and 
restored  sovereign  may  will  it.  We  are  great  enough  for 
our  means,  and  have  means  sufficient  for  contentment, 
though  not  for  splendour.  And  now  I  see,  good  Master 
Bridgenorth,  the  folly  of  putting  faith  in  idle  presenti- 
ments of  evil.  So  often  had  Sir  Geoffrey's  repeated 
attempts  in  favour  of  the  Stuarts  led  him  into  new  mis- 
fortunes, that  when,  the  other  morning,  I  saw  him  once 
more  dressed  in  his  fatal  armour,  and  heard  the  sound 
of  his  trumpet,  which  had  been  so  long  silent,  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  I  saw  his  shroud  and  heard  his  death-knell. 
I  say  this  to  you,  good  neighbour,  the  rather  because  I 
fear  your  own  mind  has  been  harassed  with  anticipa- 
tions of  impending  calamity,  which  it  may  please  God 
to  avert  in  your  case  as  it  has  done  in  mine;  and  here 
comes  a  sight  which  bears  good  assurance  of  it.' 

The  door  of  the  apartment  opened  as  she  spoke,  and 
two  lovely  children  entered.  The  eldest,  JuHan  Peveril, 
a  fine  boy  betwixt  four  and  five  years  old,  led  in  his 
hand,  with  an  air  of  dignified  support  and  attention,  a 
httle  girl  of  eighteen  months,  who  rolled  and  tottered 
along,  keeping  herself  with  difficulty  upright  by  the 

20 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

assistance  of  her  elder,  stronger,  and  masculine  com- 
panion. 

Bridgenorth  cast  a  hasty  and  fearful  glance  upon  the 
countenance  of  his  daughter,  and,  even  in  that  glimpse, 
perceived,  with  exquisite  delight,  that  his  fears  were 
unfounded.  He  caught  her  in  his  arms,  pressed  her  to 
his  heart,  and  the  child,  though  at  first  alarmed  at  the 
vehemence  of  his  caresses,  presently,  as  if  prompted  by 
nature,  smiled  in  reply  to  them.  Again  he  held  her  at 
some  distance  from  him,  and  examined  her  more  atten- 
tively; he  satisfied  himself  that  the  complexion  of  the 
young  cherub  he  had  in  his  arms  was  not  the  hectic 
tinge  of  disease,  but  the  clear  hue  of  ruddy  health ;  and 
that,  though  her  little  frame  was  slight,  it  was  firm  and 
springy. 

*I  did  not  think  that  it  could  have  been  thus,'  he  said, 
looking  to  Lady  Peveril,  who  had  sat  observing  the 
scene  with  great  pleasure;  'but  praise  be  to  God  in  the 
first  instance,  and  next,  thanks  to  you,  madam,  who 
have  been  His  instrument.' 

'Julian  must  lose  his  playfellow  now,  I  suppose?'  said 
the  lady;  'but  the  hall  is  not  distant,  and  I  will  see  my 
little  charge  often.  Dame  Martha,  the  housekeeper  at 
Moultrassie,  has  sense,  and  is  careful.  I  will  tell  her  the 
rules  I  have  observed  with  Httle  AUce,  and  — ' 

*God  forbid  my  girl  should  ever  come  to  Moultrassie,' 
said  Major  Bridgenorth,  hastily;  'it  has  been  the  grave 
of  her  race.  The  air  of  the  low  grounds  suited  them  not; 
or  there  is  perhaps  a  fate  connected  with  the  mansion. 
I  will  seek  for  her  some  other  place  of  abode.' 

'That  you  shall  not,  under  your  favour  be  it  spoken, 
Major  Bridgenorth,'  answered  the  lady.   'If  you  do  so, 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

we  must  suppose  that  you  are  undervaluing  my  quali- 
ties as  a  nurse.  If  she  goes  not  to  her  father's  house,  she 
shall  not  quit  mine.  I  will  keep  the  little  lady  as  a 
pledge  of  her  safety  and  my  own  skill ;  and  since  you  are 
afraid  of  the  damp  of  the  low  grounds,  I  hope  you  will 
come  here  frequently  to  visit  her.' 

This  was  a  proposal  which  went  to  the  heart  of  Major 
Bridgenortli.  It  was  precisely  the  point  which  he  would 
have  given  worlds  to  arrive  at,  but  which  he  saw  no 
chance  of  attaining. 

It  is  too  well  known  that  those  whose  families  are  long 
pursued  by  such  a  fatal  disease  as  existed  in  his  become, 
it  may  be  said,  superstitious  respecting  its  fatal  effects, 
and  ascribe  to  place,  circumstance,  and  individual  care 
much  more  perhaps  than  these  can  in  any  case  contrib- 
ute to  avert  the  fatality  of  constitutional  distemper. 
Lady  Peveril  was  aware  that  this  was  peculiarly  the 
impression  of  her  neighbour;  that  the  depression  of  his 
spirits,  the  excess  of  his  care,  the  feverishness  of  his 
apprehensions,  the  restraint  and  gloom  of  the  solitude 
in  which  he  dwelt,  were  really  calculated  to  produce  the 
evil  which  most  of  all  he  dreaded.  She  pitied  him,  she 
felt  for  him,  she  was  grateful  for  former  protection  re- 
ceived at  his  hands,  she  had  become  interested  in  the 
child  itself.  What  female  fails  to  feel  such  interest  in 
the  helpless  creature  she  has  tended?  And  to  sum  the 
whole  up,  the  dame  had  a  share  of  human  vanity;  and 
being  a  sort  of  Lady  Bountiful  in  her  way,  for  the  char- 
acter was  not  then  confined  to  the  old  and  the  foolish, 
she  was  proud  of  the  skill  by  which  she  had  averted  the 
probable  attacks  of  hereditary  malady,  so  inveterate  in 
the  family  of  Bridgenorth.   It  needed  not,  perhaps,  in 

22 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

other  cases,  that  so  many  reasons  should  be  assigned  for 
an  act  of  neighbourly  humanity;  but  civil  war  had  so 
lately  torn  the  country  asunder,  and  broken  all  the 
usual  ties  of  vicinage  and  good  neighbourhood,  that  it 
was  unusual  to  see  them  preserved  among  persons  of 
different  political  opinions. 

Major  Bridgenorth  himself  felt  this;  and  while  the 
tear  of  joy  in  his  eye  showed  how  gladly  he  would  accept 
Lady  Peveril's  proposal,  he  could  not  help  stating  the 
obvious  inconveniences  attendant  upon  her  scheme, 
though  it  was  in  the  tone  of  one  who  would  gladly  hear 
them  overruled.  'Madam,'  he  said,  'your  kindness 
makes  me  the  happiest  and  most  thankful  of  men;  but 
can  it  be  consistent  with  your  own  convenience?  Sir 
Geoffrey  has  his  opinions  on  many  points  which  have 
differed,  and  probably  do  still  differ,  from  mine.  He  is 
high-born,  and  I  of  middling  parentage  only.  He  uses 
the  Church  Service,  and  I  the  catechism  of  the  Assem- 
bly of  Divines  at  Westminster  — ' 

*I  hope  you  will  find  prescribed  in  neither  of  them,' 
said  the  Lady  Peveril,  '  that  I  may  not  be  a  mother  to 
your  motherless  child.  I  trust,  Master  Bridgenorth,  the 
joyful  Restoration  of  his  Majesty,  a  work  wrought  by 
the  direct  hand  of  Providence,  may  be  the  means  of 
closing  and  healing  all  civil  and  religious  dissensions 
among  us,  and  that,  instead  of  showing  the  superior 
purity  of  our  faith,  by  persecuting  those  who  think 
otherwise  from  ourselves  on  doctrinal  points,  we  shall 
endeavour  to  show  its  real  Christian  tendency,  by  emu- 
lating each  other  in  actions  of  good-will  towards  man, 
as  the  best  way  of  showing  our  love  to  God.' 

'Your  ladyship  speaks  what  your  own  kind  heart  dic- 

23 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

tates,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  who  had  his  own  share 
of  the  narrow-mindedness  of  the  time;  'and  sure  am  I, 
that  if  all  who  call  themselves  loyalists  and  Cavaliers 
thought  like  you  —  and  Uke  my  friend  Sir  Geoffrey  (this 
he  added  after  a  moment's  pause,  being  perhaps  rather 
complimentary  than  sincere),  we,  who  thought  it  our 
duty  in  time  past  to  take  arms  for  freedom  of  conscience, 
and  against  arbitrary  power,  might  now  sit  down  in 
peace  and  contentment.  But  I  wot  not  how  it  may  fall. 
You  have  sharp  and  hot  spirits  amongst  you ;  I  will  not 
say  our  power  was  always  moderately  used,  and  revenge 
is  sweet  to  the  race  of  fallen  Adam.' 

'Come,  Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  the  Lady  Peveril, 
gaily, '  these  evil  omenings  do  but  point  out  conclusions 
which,  unless  they  were  so  anticipated,  are  most  un- 
likely to  come  to  pass.  You  know  what  Shakespeare 
says  — 

To  fly  the  boar  before  the  boar  pursues 

Were  to  incense  the  boar  to  follow  us, 

And  make  pursuit  when  he  did  mean  no  chase. 

But  I  crave  your  pardon ;  it  is  so  long  since  we  have  met 
that  I  forgot  you  love  no  play-books.' 

'With  reverence  to  your  ladyship,'  said  Bridgenorth, 
*I  were  much  to  blame  did  I  need  the  idle  words  of  a 
Warwickshire  stroller  to  teach  me  my  grateful  duty  to 
your  ladyship  on  this  occasion,  which  appoints  me  to  be 
directed  by  you  in  all  things  which  my  conscience  will 
permit.' 

'Since  you  permit  me  such  influence,  then,'  replied 
the  Lady  Peveril,  'I  shall  be  moderate  in  exercising  it, 
in  order  that  I  may,  in  my  domination  at  least,  give  you 
a  favourable  impression  of  the  new  order  of  things.  So, 

24  . 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

if  you  will  be  a  subject  of  mine  for  one  day,  neighbour, 
I  am  going,  at  my  lord  and  husband's  command,  to  issue 
out  my  warrants  to  invite  the  whole  neighbourhood  to  a 
solemn  feast  at  the  castle  on  Thursday  next ;  and  I  not 
only  pray  you  to  be  personally  present  yourself,  but  to 
prevail  on  your  worthy  pastor  and  such  neighbours  and 
friends,  high  and  low,  as  may  think  in  your  own  way,  to 
meet  with  the  rest  of  the  neighbourhood,  to  rejoice  on 
this  joyful  occasion  of  the  Kjng's  Restoration,  and 
thereby  to  show  that  we  are  to  be  henceforward  a  united 
people.' 

The  Parliamentarian  major  was  considerably  embar- 
rassed by  this  proposal.  He  looked  upwards  and  down- 
wards and  around,  cast  his  eye  first  to  the  oak-carved 
ceiling,  and  anon  fixed  it  upon  the  floor;  then  threw  it 
around  the  room  till  it  lighted  on  his  child,  the  sight  of 
whom  suggested  another  and  a  better  train  of  reflections 
than  ceiling  and  floor  had  been  able  to  supply. 

'Madam,'  he  said,  'I  have  long  been  a  stranger  to 
festivity,  perhaps  from  constitutional  melancholy,  per- 
haps from  the  depression  which  is  natural  to  a  desolate 
and  deprived  man,  in  whose  ear  mirth  is  marred,  like 
a  pleasant  air  when  performed  on  a  mistuned  instru- 
ment. But  though  neither  my  thoughts  nor  tempera- 
ment are  jovial  or  mercurial,  it  becomes  me  to  be  grate- 
ful to  Heaven  for  the  good  He  has  sent  me  by  the  means 
of  your  ladyship.  David,  the  man  after  God's  own  heart, 
did  wash  and  eat  bread  when  his  beloved  child  was 
removed;  mine  is  restored  to  me,  and  shall  I  not  show 
gratitude  under  a  blessing,  when  he  showed  resignation 
under  an  affliction?  Madam,  I  will  wait  on  your  gra- 
cious invitation  with  acceptance,  and  such  of  my  friends 

2S 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

with  whom  I  may  possess  influence,  and  whose  presence 
your  ladyship  may  desire,  shall  accompany  me  to  the 
festivity,  that  our  Israel  may  be  as  one  people.' 

Having  spoken  these  words  with  an  aspect  which 
belonged  more  to  a  martyr  than  to  a  guest  bidden  to  a 
festival,  and  having  kissed  and  solemnly  blessed  his 
little  girl,  Major  Bridgenorth  took  his  departure  for 
Moultrassie  Hall. 


CHAPTER  III 

Here's  neither  want  of  appetite  nor  mouths; 
Pray  Heaven  we  be  not  scant  of  meat  or  mirth  I 

OU  Play. 

Even  upon  ordinary  occasions,  and  where  means  were 
ample,  a  great  entertainment  in  those  days  was  not  such 
a  sinecure  as  in  modern  times,  when  the  lady  who  pre- 
sides has  but  to  intimate  to  her  menials  the  day  and 
hour  when  she  wills  it  to  take  place.  At  that  simple 
period,  the  lady  was  expected  to  enter  deeply  into  the 
arrangement  and  provision  of  the  whole  affair;  and  from 
a  httle  gallery,  which  communicated  with  her  own  pri- 
vate apartment,  and  looked  down  upon  the  kitchen,  her 
shrill  voice  was  to  be  heard,  from  time  to  time,  Hke  that 
of  the  warning  spirit  in  a  tempest,  rising  above  the 
clash  of  pots  and  stew-pans,  the  creaking  of  spits,  the 
clattering  of  marrow-bones  and  cleavers,  the  scolding 
of  cooks,  and  all  the  other  various  kinds  of  din  which 
form  an  accompaniment  to  dressing  a  large  dinner. 

But  all  this  toil  and  anxiety  was  more  than  doubled  in 
the  case  of  the  approaching  feast  at  Martindale  Castle, 
where  the  presiding  genius  of  the  festivity  was  scarce 
provided  with  adequate  means  to  carry  her  hospitable 
purpose  into  effect.  The  tyrannical  conduct  of  hus- 
bands, in  such  cases,  is  universal;  and  I  scarce  know  one 
householder  of  my  acquaintance  who  has  not,  on  some 
ill-omened  and  most  inconvenient  season,  announced 
suddenly  to  his  innocent  helpmate  that  he  had  invited 

27 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Some  odious  Major  Rock, 
To  drop  in  at  six  o'clock, 

to  the  great  discomposure  of  the  lady,  and  the  discredit, 
perhaps,  of  her  domestic  arrangements. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak  was  still  more  thoughtless;  for  he 
had  directed  his  lady  to  invite  the  whole  honest  men  of 
the  neighbourhood  to  make  good  cheer  at  Martindale 
Castle,  in  honour  of  the  blessed  Restoration  of  his  most 
sacred  Majesty,  without  precisely  explaining  where  the 
provisions  were  to  come  from.  The  deer-park  had  lain 
waste  ever  since  the  siege;  the  dovecot  could  do  little 
to  furnish  forth  such  an  entertainment;  the  fish-ponds, 
it  is  true,  were  well  provided  (which  the  neighbouring 
Presbyterians  noted  as  a  suspicious  circimistance) ,  and 
game  was  to  be  had  for  the  shooting  upon  the  extensive 
heaths  and  hills  of  Derbyshire.  But  these  were  but  the 
secondary  parts  of  a  banquet;  and  the  house-steward 
and  bailiff,  Lady  Peveril's  only  coadjutors  and  coun- 
sellors, could  not  agree  how  the  butcher-meat  —  the 
most  substantial  part,  or,  as  it  were,  the  main  body  of 
the  entertainment  —  was  to  be  suppKed.  The  house- 
steward  threatened  the  sacrifice  of  a  fine  yoke  of  young 
bullocks,  which  the  baiHff,  who  pleaded  the  necessity 
of  their  agricultural  services,  tenaciously  resisted;  and 
Lady  Peveril's  good  and  dutiful  nature  did  not  prevent 
her  from  making  some  impatient  reflections  on  the  want 
of  consideration  of  her  absent  knight,  who  had  thus 
thoughtlessly  placed  her  in  so  embarrassing  a  situation. 

These  reflections  were  scarcely  just,  if  a  man  is  only 
responsible  for  such  resolutions  as  he  adopts  when  he  is 
fully  master  of  himself.  Sir  Geoffrey's  loyalty,  like  that 
of  many  persons  in  his  situation,  had,  by  dint  of  hopes 

28 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  fears,  victories  and  defeats,  struggles  and  sufferings, 
all  arising  out  of  the  same  moving  cause,  and  turning, 
as  it  were,  on  the  same  pivot,  acquired  the  character  of 
an  intense  and  enthusiastic  passion;  and  the  singular 
and  surprising  change  of  fortune,  Dy  which  his  highest 
wishes  were  not  only  gratified  but  far  exceeded,  occa- 
sioned for  some  time  a  kind  of  intoxication  of  loyal 
rapture  which  seemed  to  pervade  the  whole  kingdom. 
Sir  Geoffrey  had  seen  Charles  and  his  brothers,  and  had 
been  received  by  the  merry  monarch  with  that  graceful, 
and  at  the  same  time  frank,  urbanity  by  which  he  con- 
ciliated all  who  approached  him;  the  knight's  services 
and  merits  had  been  fully  acknowledged,  and  recom- 
pense had  been  hinted  at,  if  not  expressly  promised. 
Was  it  for  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  in  the  jubilee  of  his 
spirits,  to  consider  how  his  wife  was  to  find  beef  and 
mutton  to  feast  his  neighbours? 

Luckily,  however,  for  the  embarrassed  lady,  there 
existed  some  one  who  had  composure  of  mind  sufficient 
to  foresee  this  difficulty.  Just  as  she  had  made  up 
her  mind,  very  reluctantly,  to  become  debtor  to  Major 
Bridgenorth  for  the  sum  necessary  to  carry  her  hus- 
band's commands  into  effect,  and  whilst  she  was  bit- 
terly regretting  this  departure  from  the  strictness  of  her 
usual  economy,  the  steward,  who,  by  the  by,  had  not 
been  absolutely  sober  since  the  news  of  the  King's  land- 
ing at  Dover,  burst  into  the  apartment,  snapping  his 
fingers,  and  showing  more  marks  of  deHght  than  was 
quite  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  my  lady's  large 
parlour. 

'What  means  this,  Whi taker?'  said  the  lady,  some- 
what peevishly;  for  she  was  interrupted  in  the  com- 

29 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

mencement  of  a  letter  to  her  neighbour  on  the  unpleas- 
ant business  of  the  proposed  loan.  'Is  it  to  be  always 
thus  with  you?  Are  you  dreaming? ' 

*A  vision  of  good  omen,  I  trust,'  said  the  steward, 
with  a  triumphant  flourish  of  the  hand ;  '  far  better  than 
Pharaoh's,  though,  like  his,  it  be  of  fat  kine.' 

*  I  prithee  be  plain,  man,'  said  the  lady,  *or  fetch  some 
one  who  can  speak  to  purpose.' 

'Why,  odds-my-life,  madam,'  said  the  steward,  'mine 
errand  can  speak  for  itself.  Do  you  not  hear  them  low? 
Do  you  not  hear  them  bleat?  A  yoke  of  fat  oxen,  and 
half  a  score  prime  wethers.  The  castle  is  victualled  for 
this  bout,  let  them  storm  when  they  will;  and  Gatherill 
may  have  his  d — d  mains  ploughed  to  the  boot.' 

The  lady,  without  further  questioning  her  elated 
domestic,  rose  and  went  to  the  window,  where  she  cer- 
tainly beheld  the  oxen  and  sheep  which  had  given  rise 
to  Whitaker's  exultation.  'Whence  come  they?'  said 
she,  in  some  surprise. 

'Let  them  construe  that  who  can,'  answered  Whit- 
aker;  'the  fellow  who  drove  them  was  a  west-country- 
man, and  only  said  they  came  from  a  friend  to  help  to 
furnish  out  your  ladyship's  entertainment.  The  man 
would  not  stay  to  drink;  I  am  sorry  he  would  not  stay 
to  drink  —  I  crave  your  ladyship's  pardon  for  not  keep- 
ing him  by  the  ears  to  drink;  it  was  not  my  fault.' 

'That  I'll  be  sworn  it  was  not,'  said  the  lady. 

'Nay,  madam,  by  G — ,  I  assure  you  it  was  not,'  said 
the  zealous  steward;  'for,  rather  than  the  castle  should 
lose  credit,  I  drank  his  health  myself  in  double  ale, 
though  I  had  had  my  morning  draught  already.  I  tell 
you  the  naked  truth,  my  lady,  by  G — !' 

30 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'It  was  no  great  compulsion,  I  suppose/  said  the  lady; 
'but,  Whitaker,  suppose  you  should  show  your  joy  on 
such  occasions  by  drinking  and  swearing  a  little  less, 
rather  than  a  Httle  more,  would  it  not  be  as  well,  think 
you?' 

'I  crave  your  ladyship's  pardon,'  said  Whitaker,  with 
much  reverence;  *I  hope  I  know  my  place.  I  am  your 
ladyship's  poor  servant;  and  I  know  it  does  not  become 
me  to  drink  and  swear  like  your  ladyship  —  that  is, 
like  his  honour.  Sir  Geoffrey,  I  would  say.  But  I  pray 
you,  if  I  am  not  to  drink  and  swear  after  my  degree, 
how  are  men  to  know  Peveril  of  the  Peak's  steward  — • 
and  I  may  say  butler  too,  since  I  have  had  the  keys  of 
the  cellar  ever  since  old  Spigots  was  shot  dead  on  the 
northwest  turret,  with  a  black-jack  in  his  hand  —  I  say, 
how  is  an  old  Cavalier  Hke  me  to  be  known  from  those 
cuckoldy  Roundheads  that  do  nothing  but  fast  and 
pray,  if  we  are  not  to  drink  and  swear  according  to  our 
degree?' 

The  lady  was  silent,  for  she  well  knew  speech  availed 
nothing;  and,  after  a  moment's  pause,  proceeded  to  inti- 
mate to  the  steward  that  she  would  have  the  persons 
whose  names  were  marked  in  a  written  paper,  which 
she  delivered  to  him,  invited  to  the  approaching  banquet. 

Whitaker,  instead  of  receiving  the  list  with  the  mute 
acquiescence  of  a  modern  major-domo,  carried  it  into 
the  recess  of  one  of  the  windows,  and,  adjusting  his 
spectacles,  began  to  read  it  to  himself.  The  first  names, 
being  those  of  distinguished  Cavalier  families  in  the 
neighbourhood,  he  muttered  over  in  a  tone  of  approba- 
tion —  paused  and  pshawed  at  that  of  Bridgenorth  — 
yet  acquiesced,  with  the  observation,  '  But  he  is  a  good 

31 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

neighbour,  so  it  may  pass  for  once.'  But  when  he  read 
the  name  and  surname  of  Nehemiah  Solsgrace,  the 
Presbyterian  parson,  Whitaker's  patience  altogether 
forsook  him;  and  he  declared  he  would  as  soon  throw 
himself  into  Eldon  Hole^  as  consent  that  the  intrusive 
old  Puritan  howlet,  who  had  usurped  the  pulpit  of  a 
sound  orthodox  divine,  should  ever  darken  the  gates  of 
Martindale  Castle  by  any  message  or  mediation  of  his. 
'The  false,  crop-eared  hypocrites,'  cried  he,  with  a 
hearty  oath,  'have  had  their  turn  of  the  good  weather. 
The  sun  is  on  our  side  of  the  hedge  now,  and  we  will  pay 
off  old  scores,  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Richard  Whi taker ! ' 

'You  presume  on  your  long  services,  Whi  taker,  and 
on  your  master's  absence,  or  you  had  not  dared  to  use 
me  thus,'  said  the  lady. 

The  unwonted  agitation  of  her  voice  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  the  refractory  steward,  notwithstanding  his 
present  state  of  elevation ;  but  he  no  sooner  saw  that  her 
eye  gHstened  and  her  cheek  reddened  than  his  obstinacy 
was  at  once  subdued. 

'A  murrain  on  me,'  he  said,  'but  I  have  made  my  lady 
angry  in  good  earnest !  and  that  is  an  unwonted  sight  for 
to  see.  I  crave  your  pardon,  my  lady!  It  was  not  poor 
Dick  Whitaker  disputed  your  honourable  commands, 
but  only  that  second  draught  of  double  ale.  We  have 
put  a  double  stroke  of  malt  to  it,  as  your  ladyship  well 
knows,  ever  since  the  happy  Restoration.  To  be  sure,  I 
hate  a  fanatic  as  I  do  the  cloven  foot  of  Satan;  but  then 
your  honourable  ladyship  hath  a  right  to  invite  Satan 
himself,  cloven  foot  and  all,  to  Martindale  Castle;  and 

*  A  chasm  in  the  earth  supposed  to  be  unfathomable,  one  of  the 
wonders  of  the  Peak, 

32 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  send  me  to  hell's  gate  with  a  billet  of  invitation  — 
and  so  your  will  shall  be  done.' 

The  invitations  were  sent  round  accordingly,  in  all 
due  form;  and  one  of  the  bullocks  was  sent  down  to 
be  roasted  whole  at  the  market-place  of  a  Uttle  village 
called  Martindale-Moultrassie,  which  stood  consider- 
ably to  the  eastward  both  of  the  castle  and  hall,  from 
which  it  took  its  double  name,  at  about  an  equal  dis- 
tance from  both;  so  that,  suppose  a  hne  drawn  from 
the  one  manor-house  to  the  other  to  be  the  base  of  a 
triangle,  the  village  would  have  occupied  the  sahent 
angle.  As  the  said  village,  since  the  late  transference 
of  a  part  of  Peveril's  property,  belonged  to  Sir  Geoffrey 
and  to  Bridgenorth  in  nearly  equal  portions,  the  lady 
judged  it  not  proper  to  dispute  the  right  of  the  latter  to 
add  some  hogsheads  of  beer  to  the  popular  festivity. 

In  the  meanwhile,  she  could  not  but  suspect  the  ma- 
jor of  being  the  unknown  friend  who  had  relieved  her 
from  the  dilemma  arising  from  the  want  of  provisions; 
and  she  esteemed  herself  happy  when  a  visit  from  him, 
on  the  day  preceding  the  proposed  entertainment,  gave 
her,  as  she  thought,  an  opportunity  of  expressing  her 
gratitude. 

27 


CHAPTER  IV 

No,  sir,  I  will  not  pledge;  I'm  one  of  those 
Who  think  good  wine  needs  neither  bush  nor  preface 
To  make  it  welcome.   If  you  doubt  my  word, 
Fill  the  quart-cup,  and  see  if  I  will  choke  on't. 

Old  Play. 

There  was  a  serious  gravity  of  expression  in  the  dis- 
clamation with  which  Major  Bridgenorth  repHed  to 
the  thanks  tendered  to  him  by  Lady  Peveril  for  the 
supply  of  provisions  which  had  reached  her  castle  so 
opportunely.  He  seemed  first  not  to  be  aware  what 
she  alluded  to;  and  when  she  explained  the  circum- 
stance, he  protested  so  seriously  that  he  had  no  share 
in  the  benefit  conferred  that  Lady  Peveril  was  com- 
pelled to  believe  him;  the  rather  that,  being  a  man  of 
a  plain  downright  character,  affecting  no  refined  deli- 
cacy of  sentiment,  and  practising  almost  a  Quaker-like 
sincerity  of  expression,  it  would  have  been  much  con- 
trary to  his  general  character  to  have  made  such  a 
disavowal,  unless  it  were  founded  in  truth. 

'My  present  visit  to  you,  madam,'  said  he,  'had  in- 
deed some  reference  to  the  festivity  of  to-morrow.' 
Lady  Peveril  listened,  but  as  her  visitor  seemed  to  find 
some  difficulty  in  expressing  himself,  she  was  compelled 
to  ask  an  explanation.  'Madam,'  said  the  major,  'you 
are  not  perhaps  entirely  ignorant  that  the  more 
tender-conscienced  among  us  have  scruples  at  certain 
practices,  so  general  amongst  your  people  at  times  of 
rejoicing  that  you  may  be  said  to  insist  upon  them 

34 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

as  articles  of  faith,  or  at  least  greatly  to  resent  their 
omission.' 

*I  trust,  Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  the  Lady  Peveril, 
not  fully  comprehending  the  drift  of  his  discourse,  *  that 
we  shall,  as  your  entertainers,  carefully  avoid  all  allu- 
sions or  reproaches  founded  on  past  misunderstanding.' 

*We  would  expect  no  less,  madam,  from  your  candour 
and  courtesy,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'but  I  perceive  you  do 
not  fully  understand  me.  To  be  plain,  then,  I  allude  to 
the  fashion  of  drinking  healths,  and  pledging  each  other 
in  draughts  of  strong  Uquor,  which  most  among  us  con- 
sider as  a  superfluous  and  sinful  provoking  of  each  other 
to  debauchery,  and  the  excessive  use  of  strong  drink; 
and  which,  besides,  if  derived,  as  learned  divines  have 
supposed,  from  the  custom  of  the  blinded  pagans,  who 
made  Hbations  and  invoked  idols  when  they  drank,  may 
be  justly  said  to  have  something  in  it  heathenish,  and 
allied  to  demon-worship.' 

The  lady  had  already  hastily  considered  all  the  top- 
ics which  were  likely  to  introduce  discord  into  the  pro- 
posed festivity;  but  this  very  ridiculous,  yet  fatal, 
discrepancy  betwixt  the  manners  of  the  parties  on 
convivial  occasions  had  entirely  escaped  her.  She  en- 
deavoured to  soothe  the  objecting  party,  whose  brows 
were  knit  like  one  who  had  fixed  an  opinion  by  which 
be  was  determined  to  abide. 

*  I  grant,'  she  said,  'my  good  neighbour,  that  this  cus- 
tom is  at  least  idle,  and  may  be  prejudicial  if  it  leads  to 
excess  in  the  use  of  liquor,  which  is  apt  enough  to  take 
place  without  such  conversation.  But  I  think,  when  it 
hath  not  this  consequence,  it  is  a  thing  indifferent,  af- 
fords a  unanimous  mode  of  expressing  our  good  wishes 

35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  our  friends  and  our  loyal  duty  to  our  sovereign;  and, 
without  meaning  to  put  any  force  upon  the  inclination  of 
those  who  believe  otherwise,  I  cannot  see  how  I  can  deny 
my  guests  and  friends  the  privilege  of  drinking  a  health 
to  the  King,  or  to  my  husband,  after  the  old  English 
fashion/ 

*My  lady,'  said  the  major,  *if  the  age  of  fashion  were 
to  command  it.  Popery  is  one  of  the  oldest  English  fash- 
ions that  I  have  heard  of;  but  it  is  our  happiness  that  we 
are  not  benighted  hke  our  fathers,  and  therefore  we 
must  act  according  to  the  hght  that  is  in  us,  and  not  after 
their  darkness.  I  had  myself  the  honour  to  attend  the 
Lord-Keeper  Whitelocke,  when,  at  the  table  of  the 
chamberlain  of  the  kingdom  of  Sweden,  he  did  positively 
refuse  to  pledge  the  health  of  his  queen,  Christina, 
thereby  giving  great  offence  and  putting  in  peril  the 
whole  purpose  of  that  voyage;  which  it  is  not  to  be 
thought  so  wise  a  man  would  have  done,  but  that  he 
held  such  compliance  a  thing  not  merely  indifferent, 
but  rather  sinful  and  damnable.' 

*  With  all  respect  to  Whitelocke,'  said  the  Lady  Peveril, 
*  I  continue  of  my  own  opinion,  though.  Heaven  knows, 
I  am  no  friend  to  riot  or  wassail.  I  would  fain  accom- 
modate myself  to  your  scruples,  and  will  discourage  all 
other  pledges ;  but  surely  those  of  the  King  and  of  Peveril 
of  the  Peak  may  be  permitted?' 

'I  dare  not,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'lay  even  the 
ninety-ninth  part  of  a  grain  of  incense  upon  an  altar 
erected  to  Satan.' 

'How,  sir!'  said  the  lady;  'do  you  bring  Satan  into 
comparison  with  our  master  King  Charles  and  with  my 
noble  lord  and  husband?' 

36 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Pardon  me,  madam,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  *I  have 
no  such  thoughts  —  indeed  they  would  ill  become  me. 
I  do  wish  the  King's  health  and  Sir  Geoffrey's  devoutly, 
and  I  will  pray  for  both.  But  I  see  not  what  good  it 
should  do  their  health  if  I  should  prejudice  my  own  by 
quaffing  pledges  out  of  quart  flagons.' 

'Since  we  cannot  agree  upon  this  matter,'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  'we  must  find  some  resource  by  which  to  offend 
those  of  neither  party.  Suppose  you  winked  at  our 
friends  drinking  these  pledges,  and  we  should  connive 
at  your  sitting  still? ' 

But  neither  would  this  composition  satisfy  Bridge- 
north,  who  was  of  opinion,  as  he  expressed  himself,  that 
it  would  be  holding  a  candle  to  Beelzebub.  In  fact,  his 
temper,  naturally  stubborn,  was  at  present  rendered 
much  more  so  by  a  previous  conference  with  his 
preacher,  who,  though  a  very  good  man  in  the  main,  was 
particularly  and  ilHberally  tenacious  of  the  petty  dis- 
tinctions which  his  sect  adopted;  and  while  he  thought 
with  considerable  apprehension  on  the  accession  of 
power  which  Popery,  Prelacy,  and  Peveril  of  the  Peak 
were  like  to  acquire  by  the  late  revolution,  became  natu- 
rally anxious  to  put  his  flock  on  their  guard,  and  prevent 
their  being  kidnapped  by  the  wolf.  He  disliked  extremely 
that  Major  Bridgenorth,  indisputably  the  head  of  the 
Presbyterian  interest  in  that  neighbourhood,  should 
have  given  his  only  daughter  to  be,  as  he  termed  it, 
nursed  by  a  Canaanitish  woman;  and  he  told  him 
plainly  that  he  liked  not  this  going  to  feast  in  the  high 
places  with  the  uncircumcised  in  heart,  and  looked  on 
the  whole  conviviahty  only  as  a  making  merry  in  the 
house  of  Tirzah. 

37 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Upon  receiving  this  rebuke  from  his  pastor,  Bridge- 
north  began  to  suspect  he  might  have  been  partly  wrong 
in  the  readiness  which,  in  his  first  ardour  of  gratitude,  he 
had  shown  to  enter  into  intimate  intercourse  with  the 
Castle  of  Martindale;  but  he  was  too  proud  to  avow  this 
to  the  preacher,  and  it  was  not  till  after  a  considerable 
debate  betwixt  them  that  it  was  mutually  agreed,  their 
presence  at  the  entertainment  should  depend  upon  the 
condition  that  no  healths  or  pledges  should  be  given  in 
their  presence.  Bridgenorth,  therefore,  as  the  delegate 
and  representative  of  his  party,  was  bound  to  stand  firm 
against  all  entreaty,  and  the  lady  became  greatly  embar- 
rassed. She  now  regretted  sincerely  that  her  well-in- 
tended invitation  had  ever  been  given,  for  she  foresaw 
that  its  rejection  was  to  awaken  all  former  subjects  of 
quarrel,  and  perhaps  to  lead  to  new  violences  amongst 
people  who  had,  not  many  years  since,  been  engaged  in 
civil  war.  To  yield  up  the  disputed  point  to  the  Presby- 
terians would  have  been  to  offend  the  Cavalier  party, 
and  Sir  Geoffrey  in  particular,  in  the  most  mortal  degree; 
for  they  made  it  as  firm  a  point  of  honour  to  give  healths 
and  compel  others  to  pledge  them  as  the  Puritans  made 
it  a  deep  article  of  religion  to  refuse  both.  At  length  the 
lady  changed  the  discourse,  introduced  that  of  Major 
Bridgenorth's  child,  caused  it  to  be  sent  for  and  put  into 
his  arms.  The  mother's  stratagem  took  effect ;  for,  though 
the  ParHamentary  major  stood  firm,  the  father,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  Governor  of  Tilbury,  was  softened,  and  he 
agreed  that  his  friends  should  accept  a  compromise.  This 
was  that  the  major  himself,  the  reverend  divine,  and 
such  of  their  friends  as  held  strict  Puritan  tenets,  should 
form  a  separate  party  in  the  large  parlour,  while  the  hall 

38 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

should  be  occupied  by  the  jovial  Cavaliers;  and  that  each 
party  should  regulate  their  potations  after  their  own 
conscience  or  after  their  own  fashion. 

Major  Bridgenorth  himself  seemed  greatly  relieved 
after  this  important  matter  had  been  settled.  He  had 
held  it  matter  of  conscience  to  be  stubborn  in  maintain- 
ing his  own  opinion,  but  was  heartily  glad  when  he  es- 
caped from  the  apparently  inevitable  necessity  of  af- 
fronting Lady  Peveril  by  the  refusal  of  her  invitation. 
He  remained  longer  than  usual,  and  spoke  and  smiled 
more  than  was  his  custom.  His  first  care  on  his  return 
was  to  announce  to  the  clergyman  and  his  congregation 
the  compromise  which  he  had  made,  and  this  not  as  a 
matter  for  deliberation,  but  one  upon  which  he  had  al- 
ready resolved ;  and  such  was  his  authority  among  them, 
that,  though  the  preacher  longed  to  pronounce  a  separ- 
ation of  the  parties,  and  to  exclaim  'To  your  tents,  O 
Israel ! '  he  did  not  see  the  chance  of  being  seconded  by 
so  many  as  would  make  it  worth  while  to  disturb  the 
unanimous  acquiescence  in  their  delegate's  proposal. 

Nevertheless,  each  party  being  put  upon  the  alert  by 
the  consequences  of  Major  Bridgenorth's  embassy,  so 
many  points  of  doubt  and  delicate  discussion  were 
started  in  succession,  that  the  Lady  Peveril,  the  only 
person,  perhaps,  who  was  desirous  of  achieving  an  effec- 
tual reconciliation  between  them,  incurred  in  reward  for 
her  good  intentions  the  censure  of  both  factions,  and  had 
much  reason  to  regret  her  well-meant  project  of  bring- 
ing the  Capulets  and  Montagues  of  Derbyshire  together 
on  the  same  occasion  of  public  festivity. 

As  it  was  now  settled  that  the  guests  were  to  form  two 
different  parties,  it  became  not  only  a  subject  of  dispute 

39 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

betwixt  themselves  which  should  be  first  admitted  within 
the  Castle  of  Martindale,  but  matter  of  serious  appre- 
hension to  Lady  Peveril  and  Major  Bridgenorth,  lest,  if 
they  were  to  approach  by  the  same  avenue  and  entrance, 
a  quarrel  might  take  place  betwixt  them,  and  proceed 
to  extremities,  even  before  they  reached  the  place  of  en- 
tertainment. The  lady  believed  she  had  discovered  an 
admirable  expedient  for  preventing  the  possibility  of 
such  interference,  by  directing  that  the  CavaUers  should 
be  admitted  by  the  principal  entrance,  while  the 
Roundheads  should  enter  the  castle  through  a  great 
breach  which  had  been  made  in  the  course  of  the  siege, 
and  across  which  there  had  been  since  made  a  sort  of 
bye-path,  to  drive  the  cattle  down  to  their  pasture  in  the 
wood.  By  this  contrivance  the  Lady  Peveril  imagined 
she  had  altogether  avoided  the  various  risks  which  might 
occur  from  two  such  parties  encountering  each  other, 
and  disputing  for  precedence.  Several  other  circum- 
stances of  less  importance  were  adjusted  at  the  same 
time,  and  apparently  so  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
Presbyterian  teacher  that,  in  a  long  lecture  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  marriage  garment,  he  was  at  the  pains  to  ex- 
plain to  his  hearers  that  outward  apparel  was  not  alone 
meant  by  that  Scriptural  expression,  but  also  a  suitable 
frame  of  mind  for  enjoyment  of  peaceful  festivity;  and 
therefore  he  exhorted  the  brethren,  that,  whatever  might 
be  the  errors  of  the  poor  blinded  Malignants,  with  whom 
they  were  in  some  sort  to  eat  and  drink  upon  the  morrow, 
they  ought  not  on  this  occasion  to  show  any  evil  will 
against  them,  lest  they  should  therein  become  troublers 
of  the  peace  of  Israel. 
Honest  Dr.  Dummerar,  the  ejected  Episcopal  vicar  of 
40 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Martindale  cum  Moultrassie,  preached  to  the  Cavaliers 
on  the  same  subject.  He  had  served  the  cure  before  the 
breaking  out  of  the  RebelKon,  and  was  in  high  favour 
with  Sir  Geoffrey,  not  merely  on  account  of  his  sound 
orthodoxy  and  deep  learning,  but  his  exquisite  skill  in 
playing  at  bowls,  and  his  facetious  conversation  over  a 
pipe  and  tankard  of  October.  For  these  latter  accom- 
plishments, the  doctor  had  the  honour  to  be  recorded  by 
old  Century  White  amongst  the  roll  of  lewd,  incompe- 
tent, profligate  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England, 
whom  he  denounced  to  God  and  man,  on  account 
chiefly  of  the  heinous  sin  of  playing  at  games  of  skill  and 
chance,  and  of  occasionally  joining  in  the  social  meetings 
of  their  parishioners.  When  the  King's  party  began  to 
lose  ground,  Dr.  Dummerar  left  his  vicarage,  and,  be- 
taking himself  to  the  camp,  showed  upon  several  occa- 
sions, when  acting  as  chaplain  to  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril's 
regiment,  that  his  portly  bodily  presence  included  a  stout 
and  masculine  heart.  When  all  was  lost,  and  he  himself, 
with  most  other  loyal  divines,  was  deprived  of  his  living, 
he  made  such  shift  as  he  could;  now  lurking  in  the  gar- 
rets of  old  friends  in  the  university,  who  shared  with  him 
and  such  as  him,  the  slender  means  of  livelihood  which 
the  evil  times  had  left  them;  and  now  lying  hid  in  the 
houses  of  the  oppressed  and  sequestrated  gentry,  who 
respected  at  once  his  character  and  sufferings.  When  the 
Restoration  took  place.  Dr.  Dummerar  emerged  from 
some  one  of  his  hiding-places,  and  hied  him  to  Martindale 
Castle,  to  enjoy  the  triumph  inseparable  from  this  happy 
change. 

His  appearance  at  the  castle  in  his  full  clerical  dress, 
and  the  warm  reception  which  he  received  from  the 

41 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

neighbouring  gentry,  added  not  a  little  to  the  alarm 
which  was  gradually  extending  itself  through  the  party 
which  were  so  lately  the  uppermost.  It  is  true,  Dr. 
Dummerar  framed  (honest,  worthy  man)  no  extrava- 
gant views  of  elevation  or  preferment;  but  the  probabil- 
ity of  his  being  replaced  in  the  Hving,  from  which  he  had 
been  expelled  under  very  flimsy  pretences,  inferred  a 
severe  blow  to  the  Presbyterian  divine,  who  could  not 
be  considered  otherwise  than  as  an  intruder.  The  inter- 
est of  the  two  preachers,  therefore,  as  well  as  the  senti- 
ments of  their  flocks,  were  at  direct  variance;  and  here 
was  another  fatal  objection  in  the  way  of  Lady  Peveril's 
scheme  of  a  general  and  comprehensive  heahng  ordin- 
ance. 

Nevertheless,  as  we  have  already  hinted.  Dr.  Dum- 
merar behaved  as  handsomely  upon  the  occasion  as  the 
Presbyterian  incumbent  had  done.  It  is  true  that,  in  a 
sermon  which  he  preached  in  the  castle  hall  to  several 
of  the  most  distinguished  CavaUer  famihes,  besides  a 
world  of  boys  from  the  village,  who  went  to  see  the  novel 
circumstance  of  a  parson  in  a  cassock  and  surplice,  he 
went  at  great  length  into  the  foulness  of  the  various 
crimes  committed  by  the  rebellious  party  during  the 
late  evil  times,  and  greatly  magnified  the  merciful  and 
peaceful  nature  of  the  honourable  lady  of  the  manor, 
who  condescended  to  look  upon,  or  receive  into  her  house 
in  the  way  of  friendship  and  hospitaHty,  men  holding  the 
principles  which  had  led  to  the  murder  of  the  King,  the 
slaying  and  despoihng  his  loyal  subjects,  and  the  plun- 
dering and  breaking  down  of  the  church  of  God.  But 
then  he  wiped  all  this  handsomely  up  again  with  the  ob- 
servation that,  since  it  was  the  will  of  their  gracious  and 

42 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

newly  restored  sovereign,  and  the  pleasure  of  the  wor- 
shipful Lady  Peveril,  that  this  contumacious  and  rebel- 
lious race  should  be,  for  a  time,  forborne  by  their  faith- 
ful subjects,  it  would  be  highly  proper  that  all  the  loyal 
liegemen  should,  for  the  present,  eschew  subjects  of  dis- 
sension or  quarrel  with  these  sons  of  Shimei;  which  les- 
son of  patience  he  enforced  by  the  comfortable  assurance 
that  they  could  not  long  abstain  from  their  old  rebellious 
practices;  in  which  case,  the  Royalists  would  stand  ex- 
culpated before  God  and  man  in  extirpating  them  from 
the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  close  observers  of  the  remarkable  passages  of  the 
times  from  which  we  draw  the  events  of  our  history  have 
left  it  upon  record  that  these  two  several  sermons,  much 
contrary,  doubtless,  to  the  intention  of  the  worthy 
divines  by  whom  they  were  delivered,  had  a  greater 
effect  in  exasperating  than  in  composing  the  disputes 
betwixt  the  two  factions.  Under  such  evil  auspices, 
and  with  corresponding  forebodings  on  the  mind  of 
Lady  Peveril,  the  day  of  festivity  at  length  arrived. 

By  different  routes,  and  forming  each  a  sort  of  pro- 
cession, as  if  the  adherents  of  each  party  were  desirous 
of  exhibiting  its  strength  and  numbers,  the  two  several 
factions  approached  Martindale  Castle ;  and  so  distinct 
did  they  appear  in  dress,  aspect,  and  manners,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  the  revellers  of  a  bridal  party  and  the 
sad  attendants  upon  a  funeral  solemnity  were  moving 
towards  the  same  point  from  different  quarters. 

The  Puritanical  party  was  by  far  the  fewer  in  num- 
bers, for  which  two  excellent  reasons  might  be  given.  In 
the  first  place,  they  had  enjoyed  power  for  several  years, 
and,  of  course,  became  unpopular  among  the  common 

43 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

people,  never  at  any  time  attached  to  those  who,  being 
in  the  immediate  possession  of  authority,  are  often 
obliged  to  employ  it  in  controlling  their  humours.  Be- 
sides, the  country  people  of  England  had,  and  still  have, 
an  animated  attachment  to  field  sports,  and  a  natural 
unrestrained  joviality  of  disposition,  which  rendered 
them  impatient  under  the  severe  discipline  of  the  fan- 
atical preachers;  while  they  were  not  less  naturally  dis- 
contented with  the  military  despotism  of  Cromwell's 
major-generals.  Secondly,  the  people  were  fickle  as 
usual,  and  the  return  of  the  King  had  novelty  in  it,  and 
was  therefore  popular.  The  side  of  the  Puritans  was 
also  deserted  at  this  period  by  a  numerous  class  of  more 
thinking  and  prudential  persons,  who  never  forsook 
them  till  they  became  unfortunate.  These  sagacious 
personages  were  called  in  that  age  the  Waiters  upon 
Providence,  and  deemed  it  a  high  delinquency  towards 
Heaven  if  they  afforded  countenance  to  any  cause  longer 
than  it  was  favoured  by  fortune. 

But,  though  thus  forsaken  by  the  fickle  and  the  selfish, 
a  solemn  enthusiasm,  a  stern  and  determined  depth  of 
principle,  a  confidence  in  the  sincerity  of  their  own 
motives,  and  the  manly  English  pride  which  inclined 
them  to  cling  to  their  former  opinions,  Hke  the  traveller 
in  the  fable  to  his  cloak,  the  more  strongly  that  the  tem- 
pest blew  around  them,  detained  in  the  ranks  of  the 
Puritans  many  who,  if  no  longer  formidable  from  num- 
bers, were  still  so  from  their  character.  They  consisted 
chiefly  of  the  middling  gentry,  with  others  whom  in- 
dustry or  successful  speculations  in  commerce  or  in 
mining  had  raised  into  eminence  —  the  persons  who  feel 
most  umbrage  from  the  overshadowing  aristocracy,  and 

44 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

are  usually  the  most  vehement  in  defence  of  what  they 
hold  to  be  their  rights.  Their  dress  was  in  general  stu- 
diously simple  and  unostentatious,  or  only  remarkable 
by  the  contradictory  affectation  of  extreme  simplicity 
or  carelessness.  The  dark  colour  of  their  cloaks,  varying 
from  absolute  black  to  what  was  called  sad-coloured; 
their  steeple-crowned  hats,  with  their  broad  shadowy 
brims;  their  long  swords,  suspended  by  a  simple  strap 
around  the  loins,  without  shoulder-belt,  sword-knot, 
plate,  buckles,  or  any  of  the  other  decorations  with 
which  the  CavaHers  loved  to  adorn  their  trusty  rapiers; 
the  shortness  of  their  hair,  which  made  their  ears  appear 
of  disproportioned  size;  above  all,  the  stern  and  gloomy 
gravity  of  their  looks,  announced  their  belonging  to  that 
class  of  enthusiasts  who,  resolute  and  undismayed,  had 
cast  down  the  former  fabric  of  government,  and  who 
now  regarded  with  somewhat  more  than  suspicion  that 
which  had  been  so  unexpectedly  substituted  in  its  stead. 
There  was  gloom  in  their  countenances;  but  it  was  not 
that  of  dejection,  far  less  of  despair.  They  looked  hke 
veterans  after  a  defeat,  which  may  have  checked  their 
career  and  wounded  their  pride,  but  has  left  their  cour- 
age imdiminished. 

The  melancholy,  now  become  habitual,  which  over- 
cast Major  Bridgenorth's  countenance  well  qualified  him 
to  act  as  the  chief  of  the  group  who  now  advanced 
from  the  village.  When  they  reached  the  point  by  which 
they  were  first  to  turn  aside  into  the  wood  which  sur- 
rounded the  castle,  they  felt  a  momentary  impression 
of  degradation,  as  if  they  were  yielding  the  highroad  to 
their  old  and  oft-defeated  enemies  the  Cavaliers.  When 
they  began  to  ascend  the  winding  path,  which  had  been 

45 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  daily  passage  of  the  cattle,  the  opening  of  the 
wooded  glade  gave  them  a  view  of  the  castle  ditch,  half 
choked  with  the  rubbish  of  the  breach,  and  of  the  breach 
itself,  which  was  made  at  the  angle  of  a  large  square 
flanking-tower,  one  half  of  which  had  been  battered  into 
ruins,  while  the  other  fragment  remained  in  a  state 
strangely  shattered  and  precarious,  and  seemed  to  be 
tottering  above  the  huge  aperture  in  the  wall.  A  stern, 
still  smile  was  exchanged  among  the  Puritans,  as  the 
sight  reminded  them  of  the  victories  of  former  days. 
Holdfast  Clegg,  a  millwright  of  Derby,  who  had  been 
himself  active  at  the  siege,  pointed  to  the  breach,  and 
said,  with  a  grim  smile,  to  Mr.  Solsgrace,  *  I  Httle  thought 
that,  when  my  own  hand  helped  to  level  the  cannon 
which  Oliver  pointed  against  yon  tower,  we  should  have 
been  obliged  to  climb  hke  foxes  up  the  very  walls  which 
we  won  by  our  bow  and  by  our  spear.  Methought  these 
Mahgnants  had  then  enough  of  shutting  their  gates  and 
making  high  their  horn  against  us.' 

'Be  patient,  my  brother,'  said  Solsgrace  —  'be  patient, 
and  let  not  thy  soul  be  disquieted.  We  enter  not  this 
high  place  dishonourably,  seeing  we  ascend  by  the  gate 
which  the  Lord  opened  to  the  godly.' 

The  words  of  the  pastor  were  like  a  spark  to  gun- 
powder. The  countenances  of  the  mournful  retinue  sud- 
denly expanded,  and,  accepting  what  had  fallen  from 
him  as  an  omen  and  a  light  from  Heaven  how  they  were 
to  interpret  their  present  situation,  they  uplifted,  with 
one  consent,  one  of  the  triumphant  songs  in  which  the 
Israelites  celebrated  the  victories  which  had  been  vouch- 
safed to  them  over  the  heathen  inhabitants  of  the  Pro- 
mised Land : — 

46 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Let  God  arise,  and  then  his  foes 
Shall  turn  themselves  to  flight, 

His  enemies  for  fear  shall  run, 
And  scatter  out  of  sight; 

And  as  wax  melts  before  the  fire, 

And  wind  blows  smoke  away. 
So  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 

The  wicked  shall  decay. 

God's  army  twenty  thousand  is. 

Of  angels  bright  and  strong, 
The  Lord  also  in  Sinai 

Is  present  them  among. 

Thou  didst,  O  Lord,  ascend  on  high, 

And  captive  led'st  them  all, 
Who,  in  times  past,  thy  chosen  flock 

In  bondage  did  enthral.' 

These  sounds  of  devotional  triumph  reached  the  joy- 
ous band  of  the  Cavaliers,  who,  decked  in  whatever 
pomp  their  repeated  misfortunes  and  impoverishment 
had  left  them,  were  moving  towards  the  same  point, 
though  by  a  different  road,  and  were  filling  the  principal 
avenue  to  the  castle  with  tiptoe  mirth  and  revelry.  The 
two  parties  were  strongly  contrasted;  for,  during  that 
period  of  civil  dissension,  the  manners  of  the  different 
factions  distinguished  them  as  completely  as  separate 
uniforms  might  have  done.  If  the  Puritan  was  affectedly 
plain  in  his  dress  and  ridiculously  precise  in  his  manners, 
the  Cavalier  often  carried  his  love  of  ornament  into 
tawdry  finery,  and  his  contempt  of  hypocrisy  into  licen- 
tious profligacy.  Gay,  gallant  fellows,  young  and  old, 
thronged  together  towards  the  ancient  castle,  with  gen- 
eral and  joyous  manifestation  of  those  spirits  which,  as 
they  had  been  buoyant  enough  to  support  their  owners 

47 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

during  the  worst  of  times,  as  they  termed  Oliver's  usur- 
pation, were  now  so  inflated  as  to  transport  them  nearly 
beyond  the  reach  of  sober  reason.  Feathers  waved,  lace 
glittered,  spears  jingled,  steeds  caracoled;  and  here  and 
there  a  petronel  or  pistol  was  fired  off  by  some  one,  who 
found  his  own  natural  talents  for  making  a  noise  inade- 
quate to  the  dignity  of  the  occasion.  Boys  —  for,  as  we 
said  before,  the  rabble  were  with  the  uppermost  party, 
as  usual  —  hallooed  and  whooped,  'Down  with  the 
Rump,'  and  'Fie  upon  Oliver!'  Musical  instruments,  of 
as  many  different  fashions  as  were  then  in  use,  played 
all  at  once,  and  without  any  regard  to  each  other's  tune; 
and  the  glee  of  the  occasion,  while  it  reconciled  the  pride 
of  the  high-born  of  the  party  to  fraternise  with  the  gen- 
eral rout,  derived  an  additional  zest  from  the  conscious 
triumph  that  their  exultation  was  heard  by  their  neigh- 
bours, the  crestfallen  Roundheads. 

When  the  loud  and  sonorous  swell  of  the  psalm-tune, 
multiplied  by  all  the  echoes  of  the  cliffs  and  ruinous 
halls,  came  full  upon  their  ear,  as  if  to  warn  them  how 
little  they  were  to  reckon  upon  the  depression  of  their 
adversaries,  at  first  it  was  answered  with  a  scornful 
laugh,  raised  to  as  much  height  as  the  scoffers'  lungs 
would  permit,  in  order  that  it  might  carry  to  the  psalm- 
odists  the  contempt  of  their  auditors;  but  this  was  a 
forced  exertion  of  party  spleen.  There  is  something  in 
melancholy  feelings  more  natural  to  an  imperfect  and 
suffering  state  than  in  those  of  gaiety,  and  when  they 
are  brought  into  collision  the  former  seldom  fail  to  tri- 
umph. If  a  funeral-train  and  wedding-procession  were 
to  meet  unexpectedly,  it  will  readily  be  allowed  that 
the  mirth  of  the  last  would  be  speedily  merged  in  the 

48 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

gloom  of  the  other.  But  the  Cavaliers,  moreover,  had 
sympathies  of  a  different  kind.  The  psalm-time  which 
now  came  rolling  on  their  ear  had  been  heard  too  often, 
and  upon  too  many  occasions  had  preceded  victory 
gained  over  the  MaHgnants,  to  permit  them,  even  in 
their  triumph,  to  hear  it  without  emotion.  There  was 
a  sort  of  pause,  of  which  the  party  themselves  seemed 
rather  ashamed,  until  the  silence  was  broken  by  the 
stout  old  knight.  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  whose  gal- 
lantry was  so  universally  acknowledged  that  he  could 
afford,  if  we  may  use  such  an  expression,  to  confess  emo- 
tions which  men  whose  courage  was  in  any  respect 
Hable  to  suspicion  would  have  thought  it  imprudent  to 
acknowledge. 

'Adad,'  said  the  old  knight,  *may  I  never  taste  claret 
again,  if  that  is  not  the  very  tune  with  which  the  prick- 
eared  villains  began  their  onset  at  Wiggan  Lane,  where 
they  trowled  us  down  Hke  so  many  ninepins!  Faith, 
neighbours,  to  say  truth  and  shame  the  devil,  I  did  not 
like  the  sound  of  it  above  half.' 

'  If  I  thought  the  Roundheaded  rogues  did  it  in  scorn 
of  us,'  said  Dick  Wildblood  of  the  Dale, '  I  would  cudgel 
their  psalmody  out  of  their  peasantly  throats  with  this 
very  truncheon';  a  motion  which,  being  seconded  by 
old  Roger  Raine,  the  drunken  tapster  of  the  Peveril 
Arms  in  the  village,  might  have  brought  on  a  general 
battle,  but  that  Sir  Jasper  forbade  the  feud. 

'We'll  have  no  ranting,  Dick,'  said  the  old  knight  to 
the  young  franklin  —  *adad,  man,  we'll  have  none,  for 
three  reasons:  first,  because  it  would  be  ungentle  to 
Lady  Peveril;  then,  because  it  is  against  the  king's 
peace;  and  lastly,  Dick,  because,  if  we  did  set  on  the 

27  49 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

psalm-singing  knaves,  thou  mightest  come  by  the  worst, 
my  boy,  as  has  chanced  to  thee  before.' 

'  Who,  I,  Sir  Jasper ! '  answered  Dick  —  '  I  come  by 
the  worst!  I'll  be  d — d  if  it  ever  happened  but  in  that 
accursed  lane,  where  we  had  no  more  flank,  front,  or 
rear  than  if  we  had  been  so  many  herrings  in  a  barrel.' 

'That  was  the  reason,  I  fancy,'  answered  Sir  Jasper, 
'  that  you,  to  mend  the  matter,  scrambled  into  the  hedge 
and  stuck  there,  horse  and  man,  till  I  beat  thee  through 
it  with  my  leading-staff;  and  then,  instead  of  charging 
to  the  front,  you  went  right-about,  and  away  as  fast  as 
your  feet  could  carry  you.' 

This  reminiscence  produced  a  laugh  at  Dick's  expense, 
who  was  known,  or  at  least  suspected,  to  have  more 
ton^e  in  his  head  than  mettle  in  his  bosom.  And  this 
sort  of  rallying  on  the  part  of  the  knight  having  for- 
tunately abated  the  resentment  which  had  begun  to 
awaken  in  the  breasts  of  the  Royalist  cavalcade,  further 
cause  for  offence  was  removed  by  the  sudden  ceasing  of 
the  sounds  which  they  had  been  disposed  to  interpret 
into  those  of  premeditated  insult. 

This  was  owing  to  the  arrival  of  the  Puritans  at  the 
bottom  of  the  large  and  wide  breach  which  had  been 
formerly  made  in  the  wall  of  the  castle  by  their  victori- 
ous cannon.  The  sight  of  its  gaping  heaps  of  rubbish, 
and  disjointed  masses  of  building,  up  which  slowly 
winded  a  narrow  and  steep  path,  such  as  is  made 
amongst  ancient  ruins  by  the  rare  passage  of  those  who 
occasionally  visit  them,  was  calculated,  when  contrasted 
with  the  grey  and  sohd  massiveness  of  the  towers  and 
curtains  which  yet  stood  uninjured,  to  remind  them  of 
their  victory  over  the  stronghold  of  their  enemies,  and 

5<^ 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

how  they  had  bound  nobles  and  princes  with  fetters  of 
iron. 

But  feelings  more  suitable  to  the  purpose  of  their  visit 
to  Martindale  Castle  were  awakened  in  the  bosoms  even 
of  these  stern  sectaries  when  the  lady  of  the  castle,  still 
in  the  very  prime  of  beauty  and  of  womanhood,  ap- 
peared at  the  top  of  the  breach  with  her  principal  female 
attendants,  to  receive  her  guests  with  the  honour  and 
courtesy  becoming  her  invitation.  She  had  laid  aside 
the  black  dress  which  had  been  her  sole  attire  for  several 
years,  and  was  arrayed  with  a  splendour  not  unbecom- 
ing her  high  descent  and  quality.  Jewels,  indeed,  she 
had  none;  but  her  long  and  dark  hair  was  surmounted 
with  a  chaplet  made  of  oak-leaves,  interspersed  with 
lilies;  the  former  being  the  emblem  of  the  King's  preser- 
vation in  the  Royal  Oak,  and  the  latter,  of  his  happy 
Restoration.  What  rendered  her  presence  still  more 
interesting  to  those  who  looked  on  her  was  the  presence 
of  the  two  children  whom  she  held  in  either  hand ;  one  of 
whom  was  well  known  to  them  all  to  be  the  child  of  their 
leader.  Major  Bridgenorth,  who  had  been  restored  to 
life  and  health  by  the  almost  maternal  care  of  the  Lady 
Peveril. 

If  even  the  inferior  persons  of  the  party  felt  the  heal- 
ing influence  of  her  presence,  thus  accompanied,  poor 
Bridgenorth  was  almost  overwhelmed  with  it.  The 
strictness  of  his  cast  and  manners  permitted  him  not  to 
sink  on  his  knee  and  kiss  the  hand  which  held  his  Httle 
orphan;  but  the  deepness  of  his  obeisance,  the  faltering 
tremor  of  his  voice,  and  the  glistening  of  his  eye,  showed 
a  grateful  respect  for  the  lady  whom  he  addressed, 
deeper  and  more  reverential  than  could  have  been  ex- 

51 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pressed  even  by  Persian  prostration.  A  few  courteous 
and  mild  words,  expressive  of  the  pleasure  she  found  in 
once  more  seeing  her  neighbours  as  her  friends;  a  few 
kind  inquiries,  addressed  to  the  principal  individuals 
among  her  guests,  concerning  their  families  and  con- 
nexions, completed  her  triumph  over  angry  thoughts 
and  dangerous  recollections,  and  disposed  men's  bosoms 
to  sympathise  with  the  purposes  of  the  meeting. 

Even  Solsgrace  himself,  although  imagining  himself 
bound  by  his  office  and  duty  to  watch  over  and  counter- 
act the  wiles  of  the  '  Amalekitish  woman,'  did  not  escape 
the  sympathetic  infection;  being  so  much  struck  with 
the  marks  of  peace  and  good-will  exhibited  by  Lady 
Peveril  that  he  immediately  raised  the  psalm,  — 

*0  what  a  happy  thing  it  is, 

And  joyful,  for  to  see 
Brethren  to  dwell  together  in 
Friendship  and  unity!' 

Accepting  this  salutation  as  a  mark  of  courtesy  re- 
paid, the  Lady  Peveril  marshalled  in  person  this  party 
of  her  guests  to  the  apartment  where  ample  good  cheer 
was  provided  for  them;  and  had  even  the  patience  to 
remain  while  Master  Nehemiah  Solsgrace  pronounced 
a  benediction  of  portentous  length  as  an  introduction 
to  the  banquet.  Her  presence  was  in  some  measure  a 
restraint  on  the  worthy  divine,  whose  prolusion  lasted 
the  longer,  and  was  the  more  intricate  and  embarrassed, 
that  he  felt  himself  debarred  from  rounding  it  off  by  his 
usual  alliterative  petition  for  deliverance  from  Popery, 
Prelacy,  and  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  which  had  become  so 
habitual  to  him  that,  after  various  attempts  to  conclude 
with  some  other  form  of  words,  he  found  himself  at  last 

52 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

obliged  to  pronounce  the  first  words  of  his  usual  formula 
aloud,  and  mutter  the  rest  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  be 
intelligible  even  by  those  who  stood  nearest  to  him. 

The  minister's  silence  was  followed  by  all  the  various 
sounds  which  announce  the  onset  of  a  hungry  company 
on  a  well-furnished  table;  and  at  the  same  time  gave  the 
lady  an  opportunity  to  leave  the  apartment,  and  look 
to  the  accommodation  of  her  other  company.  She  felt, 
indeed,  that  it  was  high  time  to  do  so;  and  that  the 
Royalist  guests  might  be  disposed  to  misapprehend,  or 
even  to  resent,  the  prior  attentions  which  she  had 
thought  it  prudent  to  offer  to  the  Puritans. 

These  apprehensions  were  not  altogether  ill-founded. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  steward  had  displayed  the  royal 
standard,  with  its  proud  motto  of  Tandem  Triumphans, 
on  one  of  the  great  towers,  which  flanked  the  main 
entrance  of  the  castle;  while  from  the  other  floated  the 
banner  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  under  which  many  of 
those  who  now  approached  had  fought  during  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  civil  war.  It  was  in  vain  he  repeated  his 
clamorous  *  Welcome,  noble  Cavaliers !  —  welcome,  gen- 
erous gentlemen ! '  There  was  a  slight  murmur  amongst 
them  that  their  welcome  ought  to  have  come  from  the 
mouth  of  the  colonel's  lady,  not  from  that  of  a  menial. 
Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  who  had  sense  as  well  as  spirit 
and  courage,  and  who  was  aware  of  his  fair  cousin's 
motives,  having  been  indeed  consulted  by  her  upon  all 
the  arrangements  which  she  had  adopted,  saw  matters 
were  in  such  a  state  that  no  time  ought  to  be  lost  in  con- 
ducting the  guests  to  the  banqueting-apartment,  where 
a  fortunate  diversion  from  all  these  topics  of  rising  dis- 
content might  be  made,  at  the  expense  of  the  good  cheer 

S3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  all  sorts  which  the  lady's  care  had  so  liberally  pro- 
vided. 

The  stratagem  of  the  old  soldier  succeeded  in  its 
utmost  extent.  He  assumed  the  great  oaken  chair  usu- 
ally occupied  by  the  steward  at  his  audits;  and  Dr. 
Dummerar  having  pronounced  a  brief  Latin  benedic- 
tion, which  was  not  the  less  esteemed  by  the  hearers  that 
none  of  them  understood  it,  Sir  Jasper  exhorted  the 
company  to  whet  their  appetites  to  the  dinner  by  a 
brimming  cup  to  his  Majesty's  health,  filled  as  high  and 
as  deep  as  their  goblets  would  permit.  In  a  moment  all 
was  bustle  with  the  clang  of  wine-cups  and  of  flagons. 
In  another  moment  the  guests  were  on  their  feet  like  so 
many  statues,  all  hushed  as  death,  but  with  eyes  glanc- 
ing with  expectation,  and  hands  outstretched,  which 
displayed  their  loyal  brimmers.  The  voice  of  Sir  Jasper, 
clear,  sonorous,  and  emphatic  as  the  sound  of  his  war- 
trumpet,  announced  the  health  of  the  restored  monarch, 
hastily  echoed  back  by  the  assemblage,  impatient  to 
render  it  due  homage.  Another  brief  pause  was  filled 
by  the  draining  of  their  cups,  and  the  mustering  breath 
to  join  in  a  shout  so  loud  that  not  only  the  rafters  of  the 
old  hall  trembled  while  they  echoed  it  back,  but  the 
garlands  of  oaken  boughs  and  flowers  with  which  they 
were  decorated  waved  wildly  and  rustled  as  if  agitated 
by  a  sudden  whirlwind.  This  rite  observed,  the  company 
proceeded  to  assail  the  good  cheer  with  which  the  table 
groaned,  animated  as  they  were  to  the  attack  both  by 
mirth  and  melody,  for  they  were  attended  by  all  the 
minstrels  of  the  district,  who,  like  the  Episcopal  clergy, 
had  been  put  to  silence  during  the  reign  of  the  self- 
entitled  saints  of  the  Commonwealth.  The  social  occu- 

54 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

pation  of  good  eating  and  drinking,  the  exchange  of 
pledges  betwixt  old  neighbours  who  had  been  fellow- 
soldiers  in  the  moment  of  resistance,  fellow-sufferers  in 
the  time  of  depression  and  subjugation,  and  were  now 
partners  in  the  same  general  subject  of  congratulation, 
soon  wiped  from  their  memory  the  trifling  cause  of  com- 
plaint which  in  the  minds  of  some  had  darkened  the 
festivity  of  the  day;  so  that  when  the  Lady  Peveril 
walked  into  the  hall,  accompanied  as  before  with  the 
children  and  her  female  attendants,  she  was  welcomed 
with  the  acclamations  due  to  the  mistress  of  the  ban- 
quet and  of  the  castle  —  the  dame  of  the  noble  knight 
who  had  led  most  of  them  to  battle  with  an  undaunted 
and  persevering  valour  which  was  worthy  of  better 
success. 

Her  address  to  them  was  brief  and  matronly,  yet 
spoken  with  so  much  feeling  as  found  its  way  to  every 
bosom.  She  apologised  for  the  lateness  of  her  personal 
welcome,  by  reminding  them  that  there  were  then  pre- 
sent in  Martindale  Castle  that  day  persons  whom  recent 
happy  events  had  converted  from  enemies  into  friends, 
but  on  whom  the  latter  character  was  so  recently  im- 
posed that  she  dared  not  neglect  with  them  any  point 
of  ceremonial.  But  those  whom  she  now  addressed  were 
the  best,  the  dearest,  the  most  faithful  friends  of  her 
husband's  house,  to  whom  and  to  their  valour  Peveril 
had  not  only  owed  those  successes  which  had  given  them 
and  him  fame  during  the  late  unhappy  times,  but  to 
whose  courage  she  in  particular  had  owed  the  preserva- 
tion of  their  leader's  life,  even  when  it  could  not  avert 
defeat.  A  word  or  two  of  heartfelt  congratulation  on  the 
happy  restoration  of  the  royal  line  and  authority  com- 

55 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

pleted  all  which  she  had  boldness  to  add,  and,  bowing 
gracefully  round  her,  she  lifted  a  cup  to  her  lips  as  if  to 
welcome  her  guests. 

There  still  remained,  and  especially  amongst  the  old 
Cavaliers  of  the  period,  some  glimmering  of  that  spirit 
which  inspired  Froissart,  when  he  declares  that  a  knight 
hath  double  courage  at  need  when  animated  by  the 
looks  and  words  of  a  beautiful  and  virtuous  woman.  It 
was  not  until  the  reign  which  was  commencing  at  the 
moment  we  are  treating  of,  that  the  unbounded  license 
of  the  age,  introducing  a  general  course  of  profligacy, 
degraded  the  female  sex  into  mere  servants  of  pleasure, 
and,  in  so  doing,  deprived  society  of  that  noble  tone  of 
feehng  towards  the  sex  which,  considered  as  a  spur  to 
'raise  the  clear  spirit,'  is  superior  to  every  other  impulse 
save  those  of  religion  and  of  patriotism.  The  beams  of 
the  ancient  hall  of  Martindale  Castle  instantly  rung 
with  a  shout  louder  and  shriller  than  that  at  which  they 
had  so  lately  trembled,  and  the  names  of  the  knight  of 
the  Peak  and  his  lady  were  proclaimed  amid  waving  of 
caps  and  hats,  and  universal  wishes  for  their  health  and 
happiness. 

Under  these  auspices  the  Lady  Peveril  ghded  from  the 
hall,  and  left  free  space  for  the  revelry  of  the  evening. 

That  of  the  Cavaliers  may  be  easily  conceived,  since 
it  had  the  usual  accompaniments  of  singing,  jesting, 
quaffing  of  healths,  and  playing  of  tunes,  which  have  in 
almost  every  age  and  quarter  of  the  world  been  the 
accompaniments  of  festive  cheer.  The  enjo3anents  of 
the  Puritans  were  of  a  different  and  less  noisy  character. 
They  neither  sung,  jested,  heard  music,  nor  drank 
healths;  and  yet  they  seemed  not  the  less,  in  their  own 

56 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

phrase,  to  enjoy  the  creature-comforts  which  the  frailty 
of  humanity  rendered  grateful  to  their  outward  man. 
Old  Whitaker  even  protested  that,  though  much  the 
smaller  party  in  point  of  numbers,  they  discussed  nearly 
as  much  sack  and  claret  as  his  own  more  jovial  associ- 
ates. But  those  who  considered  the  steward's  preju- 
dices were  inclined  to  think  that,  in  order  to  produce 
such  a  result,  he  must  have  thrown  in  his  own  by- 
drinkings  —  no  inconsiderable  item  —  to  the  sum  total 
of  the  Presbyterian  potations. 

Without  adopting  such  a  partial  and  scandalous  re- 
port, we  shall  only  say,  that  on  this  occasion,  as  on  most 
others,  the  rareness  of  indulgence  promoted  the  sense  of 
enjoyment,  and  that  those  who  made  abstinence,  or  at 
least  moderation,  a  point  of  religious  principle,  enjoyed 
their  social  meeting  the  better  that  such  opportunities 
rarely  presented  themselves.  If  they  did  not  actually 
drink  each  other's  healths,  they  at  least  showed,  by 
looking  and  nodding  to  each  other  as  they  raised  their 
glasses,  that  they  all  were  sharing  the  same  festive  grati- 
fication of  the  appetite,  and  felt  it  enhanced,  because  it 
was  at  the  same  time  enjoyed  by  their  friends  and  neigh- 
bours. Religion,  as  it  was  the  principal  topic  of  their 
thoughts,  became  also  the  chief  subject  of  their  conver- 
sation, and  as  they  sat  together  in  small  separate  knots, 
they  discussed  doctrinal  and  metaphysical  points  of 
belief,  balanced  the  merits  of  various  preachers,  com- 
pared the  creeds  of  contending  sects,  and  fortified  by 
Scriptural  quotations  those  which  they  favoured.  Some 
contests  arose  in  the  course  of  these  debates,  which 
might  have  proceeded  further  than  was  seemly  but  for 
the  cautious  interference  of  Major  Bridgenorth.    He 

57 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

suppressed  also,  in  the  very  bud,  a  dispute  betwixt 
Gaffer  Hodgeson  of  Charnelycot  and  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Solsgrace  upon  the  tender  subject  of  lay-preaching  and 
lay-ministering;  nor  did  he  think  it  altogether  prudent 
or  decent  to  indulge  the  wishes  of  some  of  the  warmer 
enthusiasts  of  the  party,  who  felt  disposed  to  make  the 
rest  partakers  of  their  gifts  in  extemporaneous  prayer 
and  exposition.  These  were  absurdities  that  belonged 
to  the  time,  which,  however,  the  major  had  sense  enough 
to  perceive  were  unfitted,  whether  the  offspring  of 
hypocrisy  or  enthusiasm,  for  the  present  time  and  place. 

The  major  was  also  instrumental  in  breaking  up  the 
party  at  an  early  and  decorous  hour,  so  that  they  left 
the  castle  long  before  their  rivals,  the  Cavaliers,  had 
reached  the  spring- tide  of  their  merriment — an  arrange- 
ment which  afforded  the  greatest  satisfaction  to  the 
lady,  who  dreaded  the  consequences  which  might  not 
improbably  have  taken  place  had  both  parties  met  at 
the  same  period  and  point  of  retreat. 

It  was  near  midnight  ere  the  greater  part  of  the  Cava- 
liers, meaning  such  as  were  able  to  effect  their  departure 
without  assistance,  withdrew  to  the  village  of  Martin- 
dale-Moultrassie,  with  the  benefit  of  the  broad  moon  to 
prevent  the  chance  of  accidents.  Their  shouts,  and  the 
burden  of  their  roaring  chorus  of — • 

'The  King  shall  enjoy  his  own  again,' 

were  heard  with  no  small  pleasure  by  the  lady,  heartily 
glad  that  the  riot  of  the  day  was  over  without  the  occur- 
rence of  any  unpleasing  accident.  The  rejoicing  was  not, 
however,  entirely  ended;  for  the  elevated  Cavaliers, 
finding  some  of  the  villagers  still  on  foot  around  a  bon- 

S8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

fire  on  the  street,  struck  merrily  in  with  them,  sent  to 
Roger  Raine,  of  the  Peveril  Arms,  the  loyal  publican 
whom  we  have  already  mentioned,  for  two  tubs  of  merry 
stingo,  as  it  was  termed,  and  lent  their  own  powerful 
assistance  at  the  'dusting'  it  off  to  the  health  of  the 
King  and  the  loyal  General  Monk.  Their  shouts  for  a 
long  time  disturbed,  and  even  alarmed,  the  little  village; 
but  no  enthusiasm  is  able  to  withstand  for  ever  the 
natural  consequences  of  late  hours  and  potations  pottle- 
deep.  The  tumult  of  the  exulting  Royalists  at  last  sunk 
into  silence,  and  the  moon  and  the  owl  were  left  in  un- 
disturbed sovereignty  over  the  old  tower  of  the  village 
church,  which,  rising  white  above  a  circle  of  knotty  oaks, 
was  tenanted  by  the  bird  and  silvered  by  the  planet.^ 
*  See  Note  i. 


CHAPTER  V 


T  was  when  they  raised,  'mid  sap  and  siege, 
The  banners  of  their  rightful  liege, 

At  their  she-captain's  call, 
Who,  miracle  of  womankind! 
Lent  mettle  to  the  meanest  hind 

That  mann'd  her  castle  wall. 

William  S.  Rose. 


On  the  morning  succeeding  the  feast,  the  Lady  Peveril, 
fatigued  with  the  exertions  and  the  apprehensions  of 
the  former  day,  kept  her  apartment  for  two  or  three 
hours  later  than  her  own  active  habits  and  the  matutinal 
custom  of  the  time  rendered  usual.  Meanwhile,  Mistress 
Ellesmere,  a  person  of  great  trust  in  the  family,  and  who 
assumed  much  authority  in  her  mistress's  absence,  laid 
her  orders  upon  Deborah,  the  governante,  immediately 
to  carry  the  children  to  their  airing  in  the  park,  and  not 
to  let  any  one  enter  the  gilded  chamber,  which  was  usu- 
ally their  sporting-place.  Deborah,  who  often  rebelled, 
and  sometimes  successfully,  against  the  deputed  author- 
ity of  Ellesmere,  privately  resolved  that  it  was  about  to 
rain,  and  that  the  gilded  chamber  was  a  more  suitable 
place  for  the  children's  exercise  than  the  wet  grass  of  the 
park  on  a  raw  morning. 

But  a  woman's  brain  is  sometimes  as  inconstant  as  a 
popular  assembly;  and  presently  after  she  had  voted 
the  morning  was  like  to  be  rainy,  and  that  the  gilded 
chamber  was  the  fittest  play-room  for  the  children.  Mis- 
tress Deborah  came  to  the  somewhat  inconsistent  reso- 
lution that  the  park  was  the  fittest  place  for  her  own 

60 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

morning  walk.  It  is  certain  that,  during  the  unrestrained 
joviality  of  the  preceding  evening,  she  had  danced  till 
midnight  with  Lance  Outram,  the  park-keeper;  but  how 
far  the  seeing  him  just  pass  the  window  in  his  woodland 
trim,  with  a  feather  in  his  hat  and  a  cross-bow  under  his 
arm,  influenced  the  discrepancy  of  the  opinions  Mrs. 
Deborah  formed  concerning  the  weather,  we  are  far  from 
presuming  to  guess.  It  is  enough  for  us  that,  so  soon  as 
Mistress  Ellesmere's  back  was  turned,  Mistress  Deborah 
carried  the  children  into  the  gilded  chamber,  not  without 
a  strict  charge  (for  we  must  do  her  justice)  to  Master 
Julian  to  take  care  of  his  Httle  wife.  Mistress  Alice;  and 
then,  having  taken  so  satisfactory  a  precaution,  she 
herself  glided  into  the  park  by  the  glass-door  of  the  still- 
room,  which  was  nearly  opposite  to  the  great  breach. 

The  gilded  chamber  in  which  the  children  were, 
by  this  arrangement,  left  to  amuse  themselves,  with- 
out better  guardianship  than  what  Julian's  manhood 
afforded,  was  a  large  apartment,  hung  with  stamped 
Spanish  leather,  curiously  gilded,  representing,  in  a 
manner  now  obsolete,  but  far  from  unpleasing,  a  series 
of  tilts  and  combats  betwixt  the  Saracens  of  Grenada 
and  the  Spaniards  under  the  command  of  King  Ferdi- 
nand and  Queen  Isabella,  during  that  memorable  siege 
which  was  terminated  by  the  overthrow  of  the  last  frag- 
ments of  the  Moorish  empire  in  Spain, 

The  little  Julian  was  careering  about  the  room  for  the 
amusement  of  his  infant  friend,  as  well  as  his  own, 
mimicking  with  a  reed  the  menacing  attitude  of  the 
Abencerrages  and  Zegris  engaged  in  the  Eastern  sport  of 
hurling  the  '  jerid,'  or  javelin;  and  at  times  sitting  down 
beside  her,  and  caressing  her  into  silence  and  good- 

6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

humour,  when  the  petulant  or  timid  child  chose  to  be- 
come tired  of  remaining  an  inactive  spectator  of  his 
boisterous  sport;  when,  on  a  sudden,  he  observed  one  of 
the  panelled  compartments  of  the  leather  hangings  slide 
apart,  so  as  to  show  a  fair  hand,  with  its  fingers  resting 
upon  its  edge,  prepared,  it  would  seem,  to  push  it  still 
farther  back.  Julian  was  much  surprised,  and  some- 
what frightened,  at  what  he  witnessed,  for  the  tales  of 
the  nursery  had  strongly  impressed  on  his  mind  the 
terrors  of  the  invisible  world.  Yet,  naturally  bold  and 
high-spirited,  the  little  champion  placed  himself  beside 
his  defenceless  sister,  continuing  to  brandish  his  weapon 
in  her  defence  as  boldly  as  if  he  had  himself  been  an 
Abencerrage  of  Grenada. 

The  panel,  on  which  his  eye  was  fixed,  gradually  con- 
tinued to  slide  back,  and  display  more  and  more  the 
form  to  which  the  hand  appertained,  until,  in  the  dark 
aperture  which  was  disclosed,  the  children  saw  the 
figure  of  a  lady  in  a  mourning  dress,  past  the  meridian 
of  life,  but  whose  countenance  still  retained  traces  of 
great  beauty,  although  the  predominant  character  both 
of  her  features  and  person  was  an  air  of  almost  royal 
dignity.  After  pausing  a  moment  on  the  threshold  of 
the  portal  which  she  had  thus  unexpectedly  disclosed, 
and  looking  with  some  surprise  at  the  children,  whom 
she  had  not  probably  observed  while  engaged  with  the 
management  of  the  panel,  the  stranger  stepped  into  the 
apartment,  and  the  panel,  upon  a  touch  of  a  spring, 
closed  behind  her  so  suddenly  that  Julian  almost 
doubted  it  had  ever  been  open,  and  began  to  apprehend 
that  the  whole  apparition  had  been  a  delusion.^ 

'  See  Note  2. 
62 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  stately  lady,  however,  advanced  to  him,  and  said, 
'Are  not  you  the  little  Peveril?' 

'Yes,'  said  the  boy,  reddening,  not  altogether  without 
a  juvenile  feeling  of  that  rule  of  chivalry  which  forbade 
any  one  to  disown  his  name,  whatever  danger  might  be 
annexed  to  the  avowal  of  it. 

'Then,'  said  the  stately  stranger,  *go  to  your  mother's 
room  and  tell  her  to  come  instantly  to  speak  with  me.' 

'I  wo'not,'  said  the  little  Julian. 

'How!'  said  the  lady,  'so  young  and  so  disobedient! 
but  you  do  but  follow  the  fashion  of  the  time.  Why  will 
you  not  go,  my  pretty  boy,  when  I  ask  it  of  you  as  a 
favour? ' 

'I  would  go,  madam,'  said  the  boy,  'but — ,'  and  he 
stopped  short,  still  drawing  back  as  the  lady  advanced 
on  him,  but  still  holding  by  the  hand  Ahce  Bridgenorth, 
who,  too  young  to  understand  the  nature  of  the  dialogue, 
clung,  trembhng,  to  her  companion. 

The  stranger  saw  his  embarrassment,  smiled,  and  re- 
mained standing  fast,  while  she  asked  the  child  once 
more,  'What  are  you  afraid  of,  my  brave  boy;  and  why 
should  you  not  go  to  your  mother  on  my  errand? ' 

'Because,'  answered  Julian,  firmly,  'if  I  go,  httle  AHce 
must  stay  alone  with  you.' 

'You  are  a  gallant  fellow,'  said  the  lady,  'and  will  not 
disgrace  your  blood,  which  never  left  the  weak  without 
protection.' 

The  boy  understood  her  not,  and  still  gazed  with 
anxious  apprehension,  first  on  her  who  addressed  him, 
and  then  upon  his  little  companion,  whose  eyes,  with  the 
vacant  glance  of  infancy,  wandered  from  the  figure  of 
the  lady  to  that  of  her  companion  and  protector,  and  at 

63 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

length,  infected  by  a  portion  of  the  fear  which  the  latter's 
magnanimous  efforts  could  not  entirely  conceal,  she  flew 
into  Julian's  arms,  and,  clinging  to  him,  greatly  aug- 
mented his  alarm,  and,  by  screaming  aloud,  rendered  it 
very  difficult  for  him  to  avoid  the  sympathetic  fear 
which  impelled  him  to  do  the  same. 

There  was  something  in  the  manner  and  bearing  of 
this  unexpected  inmate  which  might  justify  awe  at  least, 
if  not  fear,  when  joined  to  the  singular  and  mysterious 
mode  in  which  she  had  made  her  appearance.  Her  dress 
was  not  remarkable,  being  the  hood  and  female  riding- 
attire  of  the  time,  such  as  was  worn  by  the  inferior  class 
of  gentlewomen ;  but  her  black  hair  was  very  long,  and 
several  locks,  having  escaped  from  under  her  hood,  hung 
down  dishevelled  on  her  neck  and  shoulders.  Her  eyes 
were  deep  black,  keen,  and  piercing,  and  her  features  had 
something  of  a  foreign  expression.  When  she  spoke,  her 
language  was  marked  by  a  slight  foreign  accent,  although 
in  construction  it  was  pure  Enghsh.  Her  slightest  tone 
and  gesture  had  the  air  of  one  accustomed  to  command 
and  to  be  obeyed ;  the  recollection  of  which  probably  sug- 
gested to  Julian  the  apology  he  afterwards  made  for  being 
frightened,  that  he  took  the  stranger  for  an  'enchanted 
queen.' 

While  the  stranger  lady  and  the  children  thus  con- 
fronted each  other,  two  persons  entered  almost  at  the 
same  instant,  but  from  different  doors,  whose  haste 
showed  that  they  had  been  alarmed  by  the  screams  of 
the  latter. 

The  first  was  Major  Bridgenorth,  whose  ears  had  been 
alarmed  with  the  cries  of  his  child  as  he  entered  the  hall, 
which  corresponded  with  what  was  called  the  gilded 

64 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

chamber.  His  intention  had  been  to  remain  in  the  more 
public  apartment  until  the  Lady  Peveril  should  make 
her  appearance,  with  the  good-natured  purpose  of  assur- 
ing her  that  the  preceding  day  of  tumult  had  passed  in 
every  respect  agreeably  to  his  friends,  and  without  any 
of  those  alarming  consequences  which  might  have  been 
apprehended  from  a  collision  betwixt  the  parties.  But 
when  it  is  considered  how  severely  he  had  been  agitated 
by  apprehensions  for  his  child's  safety  and  health,  too 
well  justified  by  the  fate  of  those  who  had  preceded  her, 
it  will  not  be  thought  surprising  that  the  infantine 
screams  of  Alice  induced  him  to  break  through  the  bar- 
riers of  form,  and  intrude  farther  into  the  interior  of  the 
house  than  a  sense  of  strict  propriety  might  have  war- 
ranted. 

He  burst  into  the  gilded  chamber,  therefore,  by  a  side 
door  and  narrow  passage,  which  communicated  betwixt 
that  apartment  and  the  hall,  and,  snatching  the  child  up 
in  his  arms,  endeavoured  by  a  thousand  caresses  to  stifle 
the  screams  which  burst  yet  more  violently  from  the 
little  girl  on  beholding  herself  in  the  arms  of  one  to  whose 
voice  and  manner  she  was,  but  for  one  brief  interview, 
an  entire  stranger. 

Of  course,  Alice's  shrieks  were  redoubled,  and  seconded 
by  those  of  Julian  Peveril,  who,  on  the  appearance  of 
this  second  intruder,  was  frightened  into  resignation  of 
every  more  manly  idea  of  rescue  than  that  which  con- 
sisted in  invoking  assistance  at  the  very  top  of  his 
lungs. 

Alarmed  by  this  noise,  which  in  half  a  minute  became 
very  clamorous.  Lady  Peveril,  with  whose  apartment  the 
gilded  chamber  was  connected  by  a  private  door  of  com- 
27  65 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

munication  opening  into  her  wardrobe,  entered  on  the 
scene.  The  instant  she  appeared,  the  Httle  Alice,  extri- 
cating herself  from  the  grasp  of  her  father,  ran  towards 
her  protectress,  and  when  she  had  once  taken  hold  of  her 
skirts,  not  only  became  silent,  but  turned  her  large  blue 
eyes,  in  which  the  tears  were  still  glistening,  with  a  look 
of  wonder  rather  than  alarm  towards  the  strange  lady. 
Julian  manfully  brandished  his  reed,  a  weapon  which  he 
had  never  parted  with  during  the  whole  alarm,  and  stood 
prepared  to  assist  his  mother  if  there  should  be  danger 
in  the  encounter  betwixt  her  and  the  stranger. 

In  fact,  it  might  have  puzzled  an  older  person  to  ac- 
count for  the  sudden  and  confused  pause  which  the  Lady 
Peveril  made  as  she  gazed  on  her  unexpected  guest,  as 
if  dubious  whether  she  did  or  did  not  recognize  in  her 
still  beautiful,  though  wasted  and  emaciated,  features  a 
countenance  which  she  had  known  well  under  far  differ- 
ent circumstances. 

The  stranger  seemed  to  understand  her  cause  of  hesi- 
tation, for  she  said  in  that  heart-thrilling  voice  which 
was  peculiarly  her  own —  'Time  and  misfortune  have 
changed  me  much,  Margaret,  that  every  mirror  tells 
me;  yet  methinks  Margaret  Stanley  might  still  have 
known  Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille.' 

The  Lady  Peveril  was  Httle  in  the  custom  of  giving 
way  to  sudden  emotion,  but  in  the  present  case  she 
threw  herself  on  her  knees  in  a  rapture  of  mingled  joy 
and  grief,  and,  half  embracing  those  of  the  stranger,  ex- 
claimed in  broken  language — 'My  kind,  my  noble 
benefactress  —  the  princely  Countess  of  Derby  —  the 
royal  Queen  in  Man  —  could  I  doubt  your  voice,  your 
features,  for  a  moment.   O,  forgive  —  forgive  me ! ' 

66 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  countess  raised  the  suppliant  kinswoman  of  her 
husband's  house  with  all  the  grace  of  one  accustomed 
from  early  birth  to  receive  homage  and  to  grant  protec- 
tion. She  kissed  the  Lady  Peveril's  forehead,  and  passed 
her  hand  in  a  caressing  manner  over  her  face  as  she 
said —  'You  too  are  changed,  my  fair  cousin,  but  it  is 
a  change  becomes  you,  from  a  pretty  and  timid  maiden 
to  a  sage  and  comely  matron.  But  my  own  memory, 
which  I  once  held  a  good  one,  has  failed  me  strangely  if 
this  gentleman  be  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril.' 

*  A  kind  and  good  neighbour  only,  madam,'  said  Lady 
Peveril;  'Sir  Geoffrey  is  at  court.' 

*I  understood  so  much,'  said  the  Countess  of  Derby, 
'when  I  arrived  here  last  night.' 

'How,  madam!'  said  Lady  Peveril.  'Did  you  arrive 
at  Martindale  Castle —  at  the  house  of  Margaret  Stan- 
ley, where  you  have  such  right  to  command,  and  did  not 
announce  your  presence  to  her? ' 

'O,  I  know  you  are  a  dutiful  subject,  Margaret,'  an- 
swered the  countess,  '  though  it  be  in  these  days  a  rare 
character;  but  it  was  our  pleasure,'  she  added  with  a 
smile,  'to  travel  incognito;  and  finding  you  engaged  in 
general  hospitality,  we  desired  not  to  disturb  you  with 
our  royal  presence.' 

'But  how  and  where  were  you  lodged,  madam?'  said 
Lady  Peveril;  'or  why  should  you  have  kept  secret  a 
visit  which  would,  if  made,  have  augmented  tenfold  the 
happiness  of  every  true  heart  that  rejoiced  here  yester- 
day?' 

'My  lodging  was  well  cared  for  by  Ellesmere —  your 
Ellesmere  now,  as  she  was  formerly  mine;  she  has  acted 
as  quartermaster  ere  now,  you  know,  and  on  a  broader 

67 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

scale.  You  must  excuse  her  —  she  had  my  positive  order 
to  lodge  me  in  the  most  secret  part  of  your  castle  (here 
she  pointed  to  the  sliding  panel) ;  she  obeyed  orders  in 
that,  and  I  suppose  also  in  sending  you  now  hither.' 

'Indeed  I  have  not  yet  seen  her,'  said  the  lady,  'and 
therefore  was  totally  ignorant  of  a  visit  so  joyful,  so  sur- 
prising.' 

'And  I,'  said  the  countess,  'was  equally  surprised  to 
find  none  but  these  beautiful  children  in  the  apartment 
where  I  thought  I  heard  you  moving.  Our  Ellesmere 
has  become  silly ;  your  good-nature  has  spoiled  her :  she 
has  forgotten  the  discipline  she  learned  under  me.' 

'I  saw  her  run  through  the  wood,'  said  the  Lady 
Peveril,  after  a  moment's  recollection,  'undoubtedly  to 
seek  the  person  who  has  charge  of  the  children,  in  order 
to  remove  them.' 

'Your  own  darlings,  I  doubt  not,'  said  the  countess, 
looking  at  the  children.  'Margaret,  Providence  has 
blessed  you.' 

'That  is  my  son,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  pointing  to  Ju- 
lian, who  stood  devouring  their  discourse  with  greedy 
ear;  'the  little  girl  —  I  may  call  mine  too.' 

Major  Bridgenorth,  who  had  in  the  meantime  again 
taken  up  his  infant,  and  was  engaged  in  caressing  it,  set 
it  down  as  the  Countess  of  Derby  spoke,  sighed  deeply, 
and  walked  towards  the  oriel  window.  He  was  well 
aware  that  the  ordinary'  rules  of  courtesy  would  have 
rendered  it  proper  that  he  should  withdraw  entirely,  or 
at  least  offer  to  do  so ;  but  he  was  not  a  man  of  ceremo- 
nious politeness,  and  he  had  a  particular  interest  in  the 
subjects  on  which  the  countess's  discourse  was  likely  to 
turn,  which  induced  him  to  dispense  with  ceremony. 

68 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  ladies  seemed  indeed  scarce  to  notice  his  presence. 
The  countess  had  now  assumed  a  chair,  and  motioned 
to  the  Lady  Peveril  to  sit  upon  a  stool  which  was  placed 
by  her  side.  '  We  will  have  old  times  once  more,  though 
there  are  here  no  roaring  of  rebel  guns  to  drive  you  to 
take  refuge  at  my  side,  and  almost  in  my  pocket.' 

*I  have  a  gun,  madam,'  said  little  Julian,  'and  the 
park-keeper  is  to  teach  me  how  to  fire  it  next  year.' 

*  I  will  list  you  for  my  soldier,  then,'  said  the  countess. 
'Ladies  have  no  soldiers,'  said  the  boy,  looking  wist- 
fully at  her. 

'He  has  the  true  masculine  contempt  of  our  frail  sex, 
I  see,'  said  the  countess;  'it  is  born  with  the  insolent 
varlets  of  mankind,  and  shows  itself  so  soon  as  they  are 
out  of  their  long  clothes.  Did  Ellesmere  never  tell  you 
of  Latham  House  and  Charlotte  of  Derby,  my  Uttle 
master?' 

*  A  thousand,  thousand  times,'  said  the  boy,  colouring; 
*  and  how  the  Queen  of  Man  defended  it  six  weeks  against 
three  thousand  Roundheads,  under  Rogue  Harrison, 
the  butcher.' 

'It  was  your  mother  defended  Latham  House,'  said 
the  countess,  'not  I,  my  Uttle  soldier.  Hadst  thou  been 
there,  thou  hadst  been  the  best  captain  of  the  three.' 

'Do  not  say  so,  madam,'  said  the  boy,  'for  mamma 
would  not  touch  a  gun  for  all  the  universe.' 

'Not  I,  indeed,  Julian,'  said  his  mother;  'there  I  was 
for  certain,  but  as  useless  a  part  of  the  garrison  — ' 

'You  forget,'  said  the  countess,  'you  nursed  our  hos- 
pital, and  made  lint  for  the  soldiers'  wounds.' 

'But  did  not  papa  come  to  help  you? '  said  Julian. 

'Papa  came  at  last,'  said  the  countess,  'and  so  did 

69 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Prince  Rupert;  but  not,  I  think,  till  they  were  both 
heartily  wished  for.  Do  you  remember  that  morning, 
Margaret,  when  the  Roundheaded  knaves,  that  kept  us 
pent  up  so  long,  retreated  without  bag  or  baggage,  at  the 
first  glance  of  the  Prince's  standards  appearing  on  the 
hill;  and  how  you  took  every  high-crested  captain  you 
saw  for  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  that  had  been  your  partner 
three  months  before  at  the  queen's  mask?  Nay,  never 
blush  for  the  thought  of  it —  it  was  an  honest  affection; 
and  though  it  was  the  music  of  trumpets  that  accom- 
panied you  both  to  the  old  chapel,  which  was  almost 
entirely  ruined  by  the  enemy's  bullets,  and  though  Prince 
Rupert,  when  he  gave  you  away  at  the  altar,  was  clad 
in  buff  and  bandeHer,  with  pistols  in  his  belt,  yet  I  trust 
these  warUke  signs  were  no  type  of  future  discord?' 

'Heaven  has  been  kind  to  me,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  'in 
blessing  me  with  an  affectionate  husband.' 

'And  in  preserving  him  to  you,'  said  the  countess, 
with  a  deep  sigh;  'while  mine,  alas!  sealed  with  his  blood 
his  devotion  to  his  king.^  0,  had  he  lived  to  see  this 
day!' 

'Alas!  alas!  that  he  was  not  permitted!'  answered 
Lady  Peveril;  'how  had  that  brave  and  noble  earl  re- 
joiced in  the  unhoped-for  redemption  of  our  captivity!' 

The  countess  looked  on  Lady  Peveril  with  an  air  of 
surprise. 

'  Thou  hast  not  then  heard,  cousin,  how  it  stands  with 
our  house?  How  indeed  had  my  noble  lord  wondered, 
had  he  been  told  that  the  very  monarch  for  whom  he 
had  laid  down  his  noble  Hfe  on  the  scaffold  at  Bolton- 

^  The  Earl  of  Derby  and  King  in  Man  was  beheaded  at  Bolton-on- 
the-Moors,  after  having  been  made  prisoner  in  a  previous  skirmish  in 
Wiggan  Lane. 

70 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

le-Moor  should  make  it  his  first  act  of  restored  monarchy 
to  complete  the  destruction  of  our  property,  already 
wellnigh  ruined  in  the  royal  cause,  and  to  persecute  me 
his  widow!' 

'You  astonish  me,  madam!'  said  the  Lady  Peveril. 
'It  cannot  be  that  you  —  that  you,  the  wife  of  the  gal- 
lant, the  faithful,  the  murdered  earl —  you.  Countess  of 
Derby  and  Queen  in  Man —  you,  who  took  on  you  even 
the  character  of  a  soldier,  and  seemed  a  man  when  so 
many  men  proved  women — that  you  should  sustain 
evil  from  the  event  which  has  fulfilled  —  exceeded  — • 
the  hopes  of  every  faithful  subject —  it  cannot  be!' 

*  Thou  art  as  simple,  I  see,  in  this  world's  knowledge 
as  ever,  my  fair  cousin,'  answered  the  countess.  'This 
restoration,  which  has  given  others  security,  has  placed 
me  in  danger;  this  change,  which  reheved  other  Royal- 
ists—  scarce  less  zealous,  I  presume  to  think,  than  I  — 
has  sent  me  here  a  fugitive,  and  in  concealment,  to  beg 
shelter  and  assistance  from  you,  fair  cousin.' 

'From  me,'  answered  the  Lady  Peveril —  'from  me, 
whose  youth  your  kindness  sheltered —  from  the  wife 
of  Peveril,  your  gallant  lord's  companion  in  arms  —  you 
have  a  right  to  command  everything;  but,  alas!  that 
you  should  need  such  assistance  as  I  can  render !  Forgive 
me,  but  it  seems  like  some  ill-omened  vision  of  the  night : 
I  listen  to  your  words  as  if  I  hoped  to  be  reheved  from 
their  painful  import  by  awaking.' 

'It  is  indeed  a  dream — a  vision,'  said  the  Countess 
of  Derby;  'but  it  needs  no  seer  to  read  it:  the  explana- 
tion hath  been  long  since  given —  "  Put  not  your  faith 
in  princes."  I  can  soon  remove  your  surprise.  This 
gentleman,  your  friend,  is  doubtless  honest?' 

71 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  Lady  Peveril  well  knew  that  the  Cavaliers,  like 
other  factions,  usurped  to  themselves  the  exclusive  de- 
nomination of  the  honest  party,  and  she  felt  some  diffi- 
culty in  explaining  that  her  visitor  was  not  honest  in 
that  sense  of  the  word. 

'Had  we  not  better  retire,  madam?'  she  said  to  the 
countess,  rising,  as  if  in  order  to  attend  her. 

But  the  countess  retained  her  seat.  *It  was  but  a 
question  of  habit,'  she  said;  'the  gentleman's  principles 
are  nothing  to  me,  for  what  I  have  to  tell  you  is  widely 
blazed,  and  I  care  not  who  hears  my  share  of  it.  You 
remember — you  must  have  heard,  for  I  think  Mar- 
garet Stanley  would  not  be  indifferent  to  my  fate  — 
that,  after  my  husband's  murder  at  Bolton,  I  took  up 
the  standard  which  he  never  dropped  until  his  death, 
and  displayed  it  with  my  own  hand  in  our  sovereignty 
of  Man.' 

'I  did  indeed  hear  so,  madam,'  said  the  Lady  Pev- 
eril; 'and  that  you  had  bidden  a  bold  defiance  to  the 
rebel  government,  even  after  all  other  parts  of  Britain 
had  submitted  to  them.  My  husband.  Sir  Geoffrey,  de- 
signed at  one  time  to  have  gone  to  your  assistance  with 
some  few  followers;  but  we  learned  that  the  island  was 
rendered  to  the  Parliament  party,  and  that  you,  dearest 
lady,  were  thrown  into  prison.' 

'But  you  heard  not,'  said  the  countess,  'how  that  dis- 
aster befell  me.  Margaret,  I  would  have  held  out  that 
island  against  the  knaves  as  long  as  the  sea  continued  to 
flow  around  it.  Till  the  shoals  which  surround  it  had 
become  safe  anchorage —  till  its  precipices  had  melted 
beneath  the  sunshine  —  till  of  all  its  strong  abodes  and 
castles  not  one  stone  remained  upon  another,  would 

72 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

I  have  defended  against  these  villainous,  hypocritical 
rebels  my  dear  husband's  hereditary  dominion.  The  little 
kingdom  of  Man  should  have  been  yielded  only  when 
not  an  arm  was  left  to  wield  a  sword,  not  a  finger  to  draw 
a  trigger,  in  its  defence.  But  teachery  did  what  force 
could  never  have  done.  When  we  had  foiled  various 
attempts  upon  the  island  by  open  force,  treason  ac- 
compHshed  what  Blake  and  Lawson,  with  their  floating 
castles,  had  found  too  hazardous  an  enterprise:  a  base 
rebel,  whom  we  had  nursed  in  our  own  bosoms,  betrayed 
us  to  the  enemy.   This  wretch  was  named  Christian  — ' 

Major  Bridgenorth  started  and  turned  towards  the 
speaker,  but  instantly  seemed  to  recollect  himself,  and 
again  averted  his  face.  The  countess  proceeded,  without 
noticing  the  interruption,  which,  however,  rather  sur- 
prised Lady  Peveril,  who  was  acquainted  with  her  neigh- 
bour's general  habits  of  indifference  and  apathy,  and 
therefore  the  more  surprised  at  his  testifying  such  sud- 
den symptoms  of  interest.  She  would  once  again  have 
moved  the  countess  to  retire  to  another  apartment,  but 
Lady  Derby  proceeded  with  too  much  vehemence  to 
endure  interruption. 

'This  Christian,'  she  said,  'had  eat  of  my  lord  his 
sovereign's  bread,  and  drunk  of  his  cup,  even  from  child- 
hood; for  his  fathers  had  been  faithful  servants  to 
the  house  of  Man  and  Derby.  He  himself  had  fought 
bravely  by  my  husband's  side,  and  enjoyed  all  his  con- 
fidence; and  when  my  princely  earl  was  martyred  by 
the  rebels,  he  recommended  to  me,  amongst  other  in- 
structions communicated  in  the  last  message  I  received 
from  him,  to  continue  my  confidence  in  Christian's 
fidelity.  I  obeyed,  although  I  never  loved  the  man.  He 

73 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

was  cold  and  phlegmatic,  and  utterly  devoid  of  that 
sacred  fire  which  is  the  incentive  to  noble  deeds,  sus- 
pected too  of  leaning  to  the  cold  metaphysics  of  Calvin- 
istic  subtilty.  But  he  was  brave,  wise,  and  experienced, 
and,  as  the  event  proved,  possessed  but  too  much  inter- 
est with  the  islanders.  When  these  rude  people  saw  them- 
selves without  hope  of  relief,  and  pressed  by  a  blockade, 
which  brought  want  and  disease  into  their  island,  they 
began  to  fall  off  from  the  faith  which  they  had  hitherto 
shown.' 

'What!'  said  the  Lady  Peveril,  'could  they  forget 
what  was  due  to  the  widow  of  their  benefactor,  she  who 
had  shared  with  the  generous  Derby  the  task  of  better- 
ing their  condition? ' 

*Do  not  blame  them,'  said  the  countess;  'the  rude 
herd  acted  but  according  to  their  kind:  in  present  dis- 
tress they  forgot  former  benefits,  and,  nursed  in  their 
earthen  hovels,  with  spirits  suited  to  their  dwelHngs, 
they  were  incapable  of  feeling  the  glory  which  is  at- 
tached to  constancy  in  suffering.  But  that  Christian 
should  have  headed  their  revolt  —  that  he,  born  a 
gentleman,  and  bred  under  my  murdered  Derby's  own 
care  in  all  that  was  chivalrous  and  noble  —  that  he 
should  have  forgot  a  hundred  benefits  —  why  do  I  talk 
of  benefits?  —  that  he  should  have  forgotten  that  kindly 
intercourse  which  binds  man  to  man  far  more  than  the 
reciprocity  of  obligation  —  that  he  should  have  headed 
the  ruffians  who  broke  suddenly  into  my  apartment, 
immured  me  with  my  infants  in  one  of  my  own  castles, 
and  assumed  or  usurped  the  tyranny  of  the  island  — 
that  this  should  have  been  done  by  William  Christian, 
my  vassal,  my  servant,  my  friend,  was  a  deed  of  un- 

74 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

grateful  treachery  which  even  this  age  of  treason  will 
scarcely  parallel ! ' 

'And  you  were  then  imprisoned,'  said  the  Lady 
Peveril,  '  and  in  your  own  sovereignty ! ' 

'For  more  than  seven  years  I  have  endured  strict 
captivity/  said  the  countess.  'I  was  indeed  offered  my 
liberty,  and  even  some  means  of  support,  if  I  would 
have  consented  to  leave  the  island,  and  pledge  my  word 
that  I  would  not  endeavour  to  repossess  my  son  in  his 
father's  rights.  But  they  Httle  knew  the  princely  house 
from  which  I  spring,  and  as  little  the  royal  house  of 
Stanley  which  I  uphold,  who  hoped  to  humble  Charlotte 
of  Tremouille  into  so  base  a  composition.  I  would 
rather  have  starved  in  the  darkest  and  lowest  vault 
of  Rushin  Castle  than  have  consented  to  aught  which 
might  diminish  in  one  hair's  breadth  the  right  of  my 
son  over  his  father's  sovereignty.' 

'And  could  not  your  firmness,  in  a  case  where  hope 
seemed  lost,  induce  them  to  be  generous,  and  dismiss 
you  without  conditions? ' 

'They  knew  me  better  than  thou  dost,  wench,'  an- 
swered the  countess;  'once  at  liberty,  I  had  not  been 
long  without  the  means  of  disturbing  their  usurpation, 
and  Christian  would  have  as  soon  uncaged  a  lioness  to 
combat  with  as  have  given  me  the  slightest  power  of 
returning  to  the  struggle  with  him.  But  time  had  lib- 
erty and  revenge  in  store  —  I  had  still  friends  and  parti- 
zans  in  the  island,  though  they  were  compelled  to  give 
way  to  the  storm.  Even  among  the  islanders  at  large, 
most  had  been  disappointed  in  the  effects  which  they 
expected  from  the  change  of  power.  They  were  loaded 
with  exactions  by  their  new  masters,  their  privileges 

75 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

were  abridged,  and  their  immunities  abolished,  under 
the  pretext  of  reducing  them  to  the  same  condition  with 
the  other  subjects  of  the  pretended  republic.  When  the 
news  arrived  of  the  changes  which  were  current  in  Brit- 
ain, these  sentiments  were  privately  communicated  to 
me.  Calcott  and  others  acted  with  great  zeal  and  fidel- 
ity; and  a  rising,  effected  as  suddenly  and  efifectually 
as  that  which  had  made  me  a  captive,  placed  me  at 
liberty  and  in  possession  of  the  sovereignty  of  Man,  as 
regent  for  my  son,  the  youthful  Earl  of  Derby.  Do  you 
think  I  enjoyed  that  sovereignty  long  without  doing 
justice  on  that  traitor  Christian? ' 

'How,  madam?'  said  Lady  Peveril,  who,  though  she 
knew  the  high  and  ambitious  spirit  of  the  countess, 
scarce  anticipated  the  extremities  to  which  it  was  cap- 
able of  hurrjdng  her.  'Have  you  imprisoned  Chris- 
tian?' 

*Ay,  wench,  in  that  sure  prison  which  felon  never 
breaks  from,'  answered  the  countess. 

Bridgenorth,  who  had  insensibly  approached  them, 
and  was  listening  with  an  agony  of  interest  which  he 
was  unable  any  longer  to  suppress,  broke  in  with  the 
stern  exclamation  —  'Lady,  I  trust  you  have  not 
dared  — ' 

The  countess  interrupted  him  in  her  turn.  *I  know 
not  who  you  are  who  question,  and  you  know  not  me 
when  you  speak  to  me  of  that  which  I  dare,  or  dare  not, 
do.  But  you  seem  interested  in  the  fate  of  this  Chris- 
tian, and  you  shall  hear  it.  I  was  no  sooner  placed  in 
possession  of  my  rightful  power  than  I  ordered  the 
Dempster  of  the  island  to  hold  upon  the  traitor  a  High 
Court  of  Justice,  with  all  the  formahties  of  the  isle,  as 

76  . 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

prescribed  in  its  oldest  records.  The  court  was  held  in 
the  open  air,  before  the  Dempster  and  the  Keys  of  the 
island,  assembled  under  the  vaulted  cope  of  heaven, 
and  seated  on  the  terrace  of  the  Zonwald  Hill,  where  of 
old  Druid  and  Scald  held  their  courts  of  judgment.  The 
criminal  was  heard  at  length  in  his  o^vn  defence,  which 
amounted  to  little  more  than  those  specious  allegations 
of  public  consideration  which  are  ever  used  to  colour  the 
ugly  front  of  treason.  He  was  fully  convicted  of  his 
crime,  and  he  received  the  doom  of  a  traitor.' 

'But  which,  I  trust,  is  not  yet  executed?'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  not  without  an  involuntary  shudder. 

'You  are  a  fool,  Margaret,'  said  the  countess,  sharply; 
'think  you  I  delayed  such  an  act  of  justice  until  some 
wretched  intrigues  of  the  new  English  court  might  have 
prompted  their  interference?  No,  wench ;  he  passed  from 
the  judgment-seat  to  the  place  of  execution,  with  no 
further  delay  than  might  be  necessary  for  his  soul's  sake. 
He  was  shot  to  death  by  a  file  of  musketeers  in  the 
common  place  of  execution,  called  Hango  Hill.'^ 

Bridgenorth  clasped  his  hands  together,  wrung  them, 
and  groaned  bitterly. 

'As  you  seem  interested  for  this  criminal,'  added  the 
countess,  addressing  Bridgenorth, '  I  do  him  but  justice 
in  reporting  to  you  that  his  death  was  firm  and  manly, 
becoming  the  general  tenor  of  his  Hfe,  which,  but  for 
that  gross  act  of  traitorous  ingratitude,  had  been  fair 
and  honourable.  But  what  of  that  ?  The  hypocrite  is  a 
saint,  and  the  false  traitor  a  man  of  honour,  till  oppor- 
tunity, that  faithful  touchstone,  proves  their  metal  to 
be  base.' 

*  See  Note  3. 

77 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*It  is  false,  woman  —  it  is  false!'  said  Bridgenorth, 
no  longer  suppressing  his  indignation. 

'What  means  this  bearing,  Master  Bridgenorth?'  said 
Lady  Peveril,  much  surprised.  'What  is  this  Christian 
to  you,  that  you  should  insult  the  Countess  of  Derby 
under  my  roof? ' 

'Speak  not  to  me  of  countesses  and  of  ceremonies,' 
said  Bridgenorth;  'grief  and  anger  leave  me  no  leisure 
for  idle  observances,  to  humour  the  vanity  of  overgrown 
children.  Oh,  Christian,  worthy  —  well  worthy  —  of 
the  name  thou  didst  bear!  My  friend  —  my  brother  — 
the  brother  of  my  blessed  Alice  —  the  only  friend  of 
my  desolate  estate !  art  thou  then  cruelly  murdered  by 
a  female  fury,  who,  but  for  thee,  had  deservedly  paid 
with  her  own  blood  that  of  God's  saints,  which  she,  as 
well  as  her  tyrant  husband,  had  spilled  like  water!  Yes, 
cruel  murderess!'  he  continued,  addressing  the  countess, 
'  he  whom  thou  hast  butchered  in  thy  insane  vengeance 
sacrificed  for  many  a  year  the  dictates  of  his  own  con- 
science to  the  interest  of  thy  family,  and  did  not  desert 
it  till  thy  frantic  zeal  for  royalty  had  wellnigh  brought 
to  utter  perdition  the  little  community  in  which  he  was 
bom.  Even  in  confining  thee,  he  acted  but  as  the  friends 
of  the  madman,  who  bind  him  with  iron  for  his  own 
preservation;  and  for  thee,  as  I  can  bear  witness,  he  was 
the  only  barrier  between  thee  and  the  wrath  of  the  Com- 
mons of  England ;  and  but  for  his  earnest  remonstrances, 
thou  hadst  suffered  the  penalty  of  thy  malignancy,  even 
like  the  wicked  wife  of  Ahab.' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  'I  will  allo-w 
for  your  impatience  upon  hearing  these  unpleasing  tid- 
ings; but  there  is  neither  use  nor  propriety  in  furthei 

78 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

urging  this  question.  If  in  your  grief  you  forget  other 
restraints,  I  pray  you  to  remember  that  the  countess  is 
my  guest  and  kinswoman,  and  is  under  such  protection 
as  I  can  afford  her.  I  beseech  you,  in  simple  courtesy, 
to  withdraw,  as  what  must  needs  be  the  best  and  most 
becoming  course  in  these  trying  circumstances.' 

'Nay,  let  him  remain,'  said  the  countess,  regarding 
him  with  composure,  not  unmingled  with  triumph;  'I 
would  not  have  it  otherwise:  I  would  not  that  my  re- 
venge should  be  summed  up  in  the  stinted  gratification 
which  Christian's  death  hath  afforded.  This  man's  rude 
and  clamorous  grief  only  proves  that  the  retribution  I 
have  dealt  has  been  more  widely  felt  than  by  the 
wretched  sufferer  himself.  I  would  I  knew  that  it  had 
but  made  sore  as  many  rebel  hearts  as  there  were  loyal 
breasts  afflicted  by  the  death  of  my  princely  Derby ! ' 

'So  please  you,  madam,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  'since 
Master  Bridgenorth  hath  not  the  manners  to  leave  us 
upon  my  request,  we  will,  if  your  ladyship  lists,  leave 
him,  and  retire  to  my  apartment.  Farewell,  Master 
Bridgenorth;  we  will  meet  hereafter  on  better  terms.' 

'Pardon  me,  madam,'  said  the  major,  who  had  been 
striding  hastily  through  the  room,  but  now  stood  fast 
and  drew  himself  up,  as  one  who  has  taken  a  resolution 
—  '  to  yourself  I  have  nothing  to  say  but  what  is  respect- 
ful; but  to  this  woman  I  must  speak  as  a  magistrate. 
She  has  confessed  a  murder  in  my  presence  —  the  mur- 
der, too,  of  my  brother-in-law  —  as  a  man  and  as  a 
magistrate  I  cannot  permit  her  to  pass  from  hence, 
excepting  under  such  custody  as  may  prevent  her  farther 
flight.  She  has  already  confessed  that  she  is  a  fugitive, 
and  in  search  of  a  place  of  concealment,  until  she  should 

79 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

be  able  to  escape  into  foreign  parts.  Charlotte,  Countess 
of  Derby,  I  attach  thee  of  the  crime  of  which  thou  hast 
but  now  made  thy  boast.' 

'I  shall  not  obey  your  arrest,'  said  the  countess,  com- 
posedly; 'I  was  born  to  give,  but  not  to  receive,  such 
orders.  What  have  your  English  laws  to  do  with  my 
acts  of  justice  and  of  government  within  my  son's 
hereditary  kingdom?  Am  I  not  Queen  in  Man  as  well  as 
Countess  of  Derby?  A  feudatory  sovereign  indeed ;  but 
yet  independent  so  long  as  my  dues  of  homage  are  duly 
discharged.  What  right  can  you  assert  over  me? ' 

'That  given  by  the  precept  of  Scripture,'  answered 
Bridgenorth  —  '"Whoso  spilleth  man's  blood,  by  man 
shall  his  blood  be  spilled."  Think  not  that  the  barbarous 
privileges  of  ancient  feudal  customs  will  avail  to  screen 
you  from  the  punishment  due  for  an  Englishman  mur- 
dered upon  pretexts  inconsistent  with  the  Act  of  In- 
demnity.' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  'if  by  fair 
terms  you  desist  not  from  your  present  purpose,  I  tell 
you  that  I  neither  dare  nor  will  permit  any  violence 
against  this  honourable  lady  within  the  walls  of  my 
husband's  castle.' 

'You  will  find  yourself  unable  to  prevent  me  from 
executing  my  duty,  madam,'  said  Bridgenorth,  whose 
native  obstinacy  now  came  in  aid  of  his  grief  and  desire 
of  revenge;  'I  am  a  magistrate,  and  act  by  authority.' 

'I  know  not  that,'  said  Lady  Peveril.  'That  you  were 
a  magistrate.  Master  Bridgenorth,  under  the  late  usurp- 
ing powers,  I  know  well;  but  till  I  hear  of  your  having  a 
commission  in  the  name  of  the  King,  I  now  hesitate  to 
obey  you  as  such.' 

80 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'I  shall  stand  on  small  ceremony,'  said  Bridgenorth. 
'Were  I  no  magistrate,  every  man  has  title  to  arrest  for 
murder  against  the  terms  of  the  indemnities  held  out  by 
the  King's  proclamations,  and  I  will  make  my  point 
good.' 

'What  indemnities?  What  proclamations?'  said  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  indignantly.  '  Charles  Stuart  may, 
if  he  pleases,  and  it  doth  seem  to  please  him,  consort 
with  those  whose  hands  have  been  red  with  the  blood, 
and  blackened  with  the  plunder,  of  his  father  and  of  his 
loyal  subjects.  He  may  forgive  them  if  he  will,  and 
count  their  deeds  good  service.  What  has  that  to  do 
with  this  Christian's  offence  against  me  and  mine?  Born 
a  Manxman,  bred  and  nursed  in  the  island,  he  broke 
the  laws  under  which  he  lived,  and  died  for  the  breach 
of  them,  after  the  fair  trial  which  they  allowed.  Me- 
thinks,  Margaret,  we  have  enough  of  this  peevish  and 
foolish  magistrate;  I  attend  you  to  your  apartment.' 

Major  Bridgenorth  placed  himself  betwixt  them  and 
the  door,  in  a  manner  which  showed  him  determined  to 
interrupt  their  passage;  when  the  Lady  Peveril,  who 
thought  she  had  already  shown  more  deference  to  him 
in  this  matter  than  her  husband  was  likely  to  approve  of, 
raised  her  voice  and  called  loudly  on  her  steward,  Whit- 
aker.  That  alert  person,  who  had  heard  high  talking, 
and  a  female  voice  with  which  he  was  unacquainted, 
had  remained  for  several  minutes  stationed  in  the  ante- 
room, much  afflicted  with  the  anxiety  of  his  own  curi- 
osity. Of  course  he  entered  in  an  instant. 

'Let  three  of  the  men  instantly  take  arms,'  said  his 
lady;  'bring  them  into  the  ante-room,  and  wait  my 
further  orders.' 

27 


CHAPTER  VI 

You  shall  have  no  worse  prison  than  my  chamber. 

Nor  jailer  than  myself. 

The  Captain. 

The  command  which  Lady  Peveril  laid  on  her  domes- 
tics to  arm  themselves  was  so  unlike  the  usual  gentle 
acquiescence  of  her  manners  that  Major  Bridgenorth 
was  astonished.  'How  mean  you,  madam?'  said  he;  'I 
thought  myself  under  a  friendly  roof.' 

'And  you  are  so,  Master  Bridgenorth/  said  the  Lady 
Peveril,  without  departing  from  the  natural  calmness 
of  her  voice  and  manner;  'but  it  is  a  roof  which  must 
not  be  violated  by  the  outrage  of  one  friend  against 
another.' 

'It  is  well,  madam,'  said  Bridgenorth,  turning  to  the 
door  of  the  apartment.  '  The  worthy  Master  Solsgrace 
has  already  foretold  that  the  time  was  returned  when 
high  houses  and  proud  names  should  be  once  more  an 
excuse  for  the  crimes  of  those  who  inhabit  the  one  and 
bear  the  other.  I  believed  him  not,  but  now  see  he  is 
wiser  than  I.  Yet  think  not  I  will  endure  this  tamely. 
The  blood  of  my  brother —  of  the  friend  of  my  bosom  — 
shall  not  long  call  from  the  altar,  "  How  long,  O  Lord, 
how  long?  "  If  there  is  one  spark  of  justice  left  in  this 
unhappy  England,  that  proud  woman  and  I  shall  meet 
where  she  can  have  no  partial  friend  to  protect  her.' 

So  saying,  he  was  about  to  leave  the  apartment,  when 
Lady  Peveril  said,  'You  depart  not  from  this  place, 

82 


PEVERH.  OF  THE  PEAK 

Master  Bridgenorth,  unless  you  give  me  your  word  to 
renounce  all  purpose  against  the  noble  countess's  liberty 
upon  the  present  occasion.' 

'I  would  sooner,'  answered  he,  'subscribe  to  my  own 
dishonour,  madam,  written  down  in  express  words,  than 
to  any  such  composition.  If  any  man  offers  to  interrupt 
me,  his  blood  be  on  his  own  head ! '  As  Major  Bridge- 
north  spoke,  Whitaker  threw  open  the  door,  and  showed 
that,  with  the  alertness  of  an  old  soldier,  who  was  not 
displeased  at  seeing  things  tend  once  more  towards  a 
state  of  warfare,  he  had  got  with  him  four  stout  fellows 
in  the  knight  of  the  Peak's  livery,  well  armed  with 
swords  and  carabines,  buff-coats,  and  pistols  at  their 
girdles. 

'I  will  see,'  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  'if  any  of  these 
men  be  so  desperate  as  to  stop  me,  a  free-born 
Englishman  and  a  magistrate,  in  the  discharge  of  my 
duty.' 

So  saying,  he  advanced  upon  Whitaker  and  his  armed 
assistants  with  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

'Do  not  be  so  desperate.  Master  Bridgenorth,'  ex- 
claimed Lady  Peveril;  and  added  in  the  same  moment, 
'Lay  hold  upon  and  disarm  him,  Whitaker,  but  do  him 
no  injury.' 

Her  commands  were  obeyed.  Bridgenorth,  though  a 
man  of  moral  resolution,  was  not  one  of  those  who  un- 
dertake to  cope  in  person  with  odds  of  a  description  so 
formidable.  He  half  drew  his  sword,  and  offered  such 
show  of  resistance  as  made  it  necessary  to  secure  him  by 
actual  force;  but  then  yielded  up  his  weapon,  and  de- 
clared that,  submitting  to  force  which  one  man  was  un- 
able to  resist,  he  made  those  who  conmianded  and  who 

83 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

employed  it  responsible  for  assailing  his  liberty  without 
a  legal  warrant. 

'Never  mind  a  warrant  on  a  pinch,  Master  Bridge- 
north,'  said  old  Whitaker;  'sure  enough  you  have  often 
acted  upon  a  worse  yourself.  My  lady's  word  is  as  good 
a  warrant,  sure,  as  Old  Noll's  commission;  and  you  bore 
that  many  a  day,  Master  Bridgenorth,  and,  moreover, 
you  laid  me  in  the  stocks  for  drinking  the  King's  health, 
Master  Bridgenorth,  and  never  cared  a  farthing  about 
the  laws  of  England.' 

'Hold  your  saucy  tongue,  Whitaker,'  said  the  Lady 
Peveril;  'and  do  you,  Master  Bridgenorth,  not  take  it 
to  heart  that  you  are  detained  prisoner  for  a  few  hours, 
until  the  Countess  of  Derby  can  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  your  pursuit.  I  could  easily  send  an  escort  with  her 
that  might  bid  defiance  to  any  force  you  could  muster; 
but  I  wish.  Heaven  knows,  to  bury  the  remembrance  of 
old  civil  dissensions,  not  to  awaken  new.  Once  more, 
will  you  think  better  on  it  —  assume  your  sword  again, 
and  forget  whom  you  have  now  seen  at  Martindale 
Castle?' 

'Never,' said  Bridgenorth.  'The  crime  of  this  cruel 
woman  will  be  the  last  of  human  injuries  which  I  can 
forget.  The  last  thought  of  earthly  kind  which  will  leave 
me  will  be  the  desire  that  justice  shall  be  done  on  her.' 

'If  such  be  your  sentiments,'  said  Lady  Peveril, 
'though  they  are  more  allied  to  revenge  than  to  justice, 
I  must  provide  for  my  friend's  safety  by  putting  restraint 
upon  your  person.  Li  this  room  you  will  be  supplied 
with  every  necessity  of  life  and  every  convenience ;  and 
a  message  shall  relieve  your  domestics  of  the  anxiety 
which  your  absence  from  the  hall  is  not  unlikely  to  occa- 

84 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

sion.  When  a  few  hours,  at  most  two  days,  are  over, 
I  will  myself  relieve  you  from  confinement,  and  demand 
your  pardon  for  now  acting  as  your  obstinacy  compels 
me  to  do.' 

The  major  made  no  answer,  but  that  he  was  in  her 
hands,  and  must  submit  to  her  pleasure;  and  then  turned 
sullenly  to  the  window,  as  if  desirous  to  be  rid  of  their 
presence. 

The  countess  and  the  Lady  Peveril  left  the  apartment 
arm-in-arm ;  and  the  lady  issued  forth  her  directions  to 
Whitaker  concerning  the  mode  in  which  she  was  desir- 
ous that  Bridgenorth  should  be  guarded  and  treated 
during  his  temporary  confinement;  at  the  same  time  ex- 
plaining to  him  that  the  safety  of  the  Countess  of  Derby 
required  that  he  should  be  closely  watched. 

In  all  proposals  for  the  prisoner's  security,  such  as  the 
regular  relief  of  guards  and  the  like,  Whitaker  joyfully 
acquiesced,  and  undertook,  body  for  body,  that  he 
should  be  detained  in  captivity  for  the  necessary  period. 
But  the  old  steward  was  not  half  so  docile  when  it  came 
to  be  considered  how  the  captive's  bedding  and  table 
should  be  supplied;  and  he  thought  Lady  Peveril  dis- 
played a  very  undue  degree  of  attention  to  her  prison- 
er's comforts.  *I  warrant,'  he  said,  'that  the  cuckoldy 
Roundhead  ate  enough  of  our  fat  beef  yesterday  to 
serve  him  for  a  month ;  and  a  Httle  fasting  will  do  his 
health  good.  Marry,  for  drink  he  shall  have  plenty  of 
cold  water  to  cool  his  hot  liver,  which,  I  will  be  bound, 
is  still  hissing  with  the  strong  Hquors  of  yesterday. 
And  as  for  bedding,  there  are  the  fine  dry  boards,  more 
wholesome  than  the  wet  straw  I  lay  upon  when  I  was 
in  the  stocks,  I  trow.' 

8S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*Whi taker,'  said  the  lady,  peremptorily, '  I  desire  you 
to  provide  Master  Bridgenorth's  bedding  and  food  in 
the  way  I  have  already  signified  to  you;  and  to  behave 
yourself  towards  him  in  all  civiUty.' 

'Lack-a-day!  yes,  my  lady,'  said  Whi taker;  'you  shall 
have  all  your  directions  punctually  obeyed;  but,  as  an 
old  servant,  I  cannot  but  speak  my  mind.' 

The  ladies  retired  after  this  conference  with  the  stew- 
ard in  the  ante-chamber,  and  were  soon  seated  in  an- 
other apartment,  which  was  pecuHarly  dedicated  to  the 
use  of  the  mistress  of  the  mansion;  having,  on  the  one 
side,  access  to  the  family  bed-room,  and  on  the  other, 
to  the  still-room,  which  communicated  with  the  garden. 
There  was  also  a  small  door,  which,  ascending  a  few 
steps,  led  to  that  balcony,  already  mentioned,  that 
overhung  the  kitchen ;  and  the  same  passage,  by  a  separ- 
ate door,  admitted  to  the  principal  gallery  in  the  chapel; 
so  that  the  spiritual  and  temporal  affairs  of  the  castle 
were  placed  almost  at  once  within  reach  of  the  same 
regulating  and  directing  eye.^ 

In  the  tapestried  room  from  which  issued  these  vari- 
ous sally-ports,  the  countess  and  Lady  Peveril  were 
speedily  seated ;  and  the  former,  smiling  upon  the  latter, 
said,  as  she  took  her  hand,  'Two  things  have  happened 
to-day  which  might  have  surprised  me,  if  anything 
ought  to  surprise  me  in  such  times.  The  first  is,  that 
yonder  Roundheaded  fellow  should  have  dared  to  use 
such  insolence  in  the  house  of  PeverU  of  the  Peak.  If 
your  husband  is  yet  the  same  honest  and  downright 
Cavaher  whom  I  once  knew,  and  had  chanced  to  be  at 
home,  he  would  have  thrown  the  knave  out  of  window. 
^  See  Note  4. 
86 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

But  what  I  wonder  at  still  more,  Margaret,  is  your  gen- 
eralship. I  hardly  thought  you  had  courage  sufficient  to 
have  taken  such  decided  measures,  after  keeping  on 
terms  with  the  man  so  long.  When  he  spoke  of  justices 
and  warrants,  you  looked  so  overawed  that  I  thought 
I  felt  the  clutch  of  the  parish  beadles  on  my  shoulder  to 
drag  me  to  prison  as  a  vagrant.' 

*We  owe  Master  Bridgenorth  some  deference,  my 
dearest  lady,'  answered  the  Lady  Peveril:  *he  has  served 
us  often  and  kindly  in  these  late  times ;  but  neither  he 
nor  any  one  else  shall  insult  the  Countess  of  Derby  in 
the  house  of  Margaret  Stanley.' 

'Thou  art  become  a  perfect  heroine,  Margaret,'  re- 
plied the  countess. 

'Two  sieges  and  alarms  innumerable,'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  'may  have  taught  me  presence  of  mind.  My 
courage  is,  I  believe,  as  slender  as  ever.' 

'Presence  of  mind  is  courage,'  answered  the  countess. 
'Real  valour  consists  not  in  being  insensible  to  danger, 
but  in  being  prompt  to  confront  and  disarm  it;  and  we 
may  have  present  occasion  for  all  that  we  possess,'  she 
added,  with  some  slight  emotion,  'for  I  hear  the  tramp- 
ling of  horses'  steps  on  the  pavement  of  the  court.' 

In  one  moment,  the  boy  JuHan,  breathless  with  joy, 
came  flying  into  the  room,  to  say  that  papa  was  returned 
with  Lamington  and  Sam  Brewer;  and  that  he  was  him- 
self to  ride  Black  Hastings  to  the  stable.  In  the  second, 
the  tramp  of  the  honest  knight's  heavy  jack-boots  was 
heard,  as,  in  his  haste  to  see  his  lady,  he  ascended  the 
staircase  by  two  steps  at  a  time.  He  burst  into  the  room, 
his  manly  countenance  and  disordered  dress  showing 
marks  that  he  had  been  riding  fast;  and  without  looking 

87 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  any  one  else,  caught  his  good  lady  in  his  arms,  and 
kissed  her  a  dozen  of  times.  Blushing,  and  with  some 
difficulty,  Lady  Peveril  extricated  herself  from  Sir  Geof- 
frey's arms;  and  in  a  voice  of  bashful  and  gentle  rebuke, 
bid  him,  for  shame,  observe  who  was  in  the  room. 

'One,'  said  the  countess,  advancing  to  him,  'who  is 
right  glad  to  see  that  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  though  turned 
courtier  and  favourite,  still  values  the  treasure  which 
she  had  some  share  in  bestowing  upon  him.  You  can- 
not have  forgot  the  raising  of  the  leaguer  of  Latham 
House? ' 

'The  noble  Countess  of  Derby!'  said  Sir  Geoffrey, 
doffing  his  plumed  hat  with  an  air  of  deep  deference,  and 
kissing  with  much  reverence  the  hand  which  she  held  out 
to  him.  'I  am  as  glad  to  see  your  ladyship  in  my  poor 
house  as  I  would  be  to  hear  that  they  had  found  a  vein 
of  lead  in  the  Brown  Tor.  I  rode  hard  in  the  hope  of  be- 
ing your  escort  through  the  country.  I  feared  you  might 
have  fallen  into  bad  hands,  hearing  there  was  a  knave 
sent  out  with  a  warrant  from  the  council.' 

'  When  heard  you  so?  and  from  whom? ' 

'It  was  from  Cholmondley  of  Vale  Royal,'  said  Sir 
Geoffrey;  'he  is  come  down  to  make  provision  for  your 
safety  through  Cheshire,  and  I  promised  to  bring  you 
there  in  safety.  Prince  Rupert,  Ormond,  and  other 
friends  do  not  doubt  the  matter  will  be  driven  to  a  fine ; 
but  they  say  the  chancellor  and  Harry  Bennet,  and  some 
others  of  the  over-sea  counsellors,  are  furious  at  what 
they  call  a  breach  of  the  King's  proclamation.  Hang 
them,  say  I.  They  left  us  to  bear  all  the  beating,  and 
now  they  are  incensed  that  we  should  wish  to  clear  scores 
with  those  who  rode  us  like  nightmares!' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*What  did  they  talk  of  for  my  chastisement? '  said  the 
countess. 

*I  wot  not,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey;  'some  friends,  as  I  said, 
from  our  kind  Cheshire,  and  others,  tried  to  bring  it  to 
a  fine;  but  some,  again,  spoke  of  nothing  but  the  Tower, 
and  a  long  imprisonment.' 

'I  have  suffered  imprisonment  long  enough  for  King 
Charles's  sake,'  said  the  countess,  'and  have  no  mind  to 
undergo  it  at  his  hand.  Besides,  if  I  am  removed  from 
the  personal  superintendence  of  my  son's  dominions  in 
Man,  I  know  not  what  new  usurpation  may  be  attempted 
there.  I  must  be  obliged  to  you,  cousin,  to  contrive  that 
I  may  get  in  security  to  Vale  Royal,  and  from  thence 
I  know  I  shall  be  guarded  safely  to  Liverpool.' 

'You  may  rely  on  my  guidance  and  protection,  noble 
lady,'  answered  her  host,  'though  you  had  come  here  at 
midnight,  and  with  the  rogue's  head  in  your  apron,  like 
Judith  in  the  Holy  Apocrypha,  which  I  joy  to  hear  once 
more  read  in  churches.' 

'Do  the  gentry  resort  much  to  the  court?'  said  the 
lady. 

'Ay,  madam,'  replied  Sir  Geoffrey;  'and  according 
to  our  saying,  when  miners  do  begin  to  bore  in  these 
parts,  it  is  "for  the  grace  of  God,  and  what  they  there 
may  find."' 

'Meet  the  old  Cavaliers  with  much  countenance?' 
continued  the  countess. 

'Faith,  madam,  to  speak  truth,'  replied  the  knight, 
'the  King  hath  so  gracious  a  manner  that  it  makes 
every  man's  hopes  blossom,  though  we  have  seen  but 
few  that  have  ripened  into  fruit.' 

'You  have  not  yourself,  my  cousin,'  answered  the 

89 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS. 

countess, '  had  room  to  complain  of  ingratitude,  I  trust? 
Few  have  less  deserved  it  at  the  King's  hand.' 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  unwilling,  like  most  prudent  persons, 
to  own  the  existence  of  expectations  which  had  proved 
fallacious,  yet  had  too  little  art  in  his  character  to  conceal 
his  disappointment  entirely.  'Who?  I,  madam?'  he 
said.  'Alas!  what  should  a  poor  country  knight  expect 
from  the  King,  besides  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  in 
Whitehall  once  more,  and  enjoying  his  own  again?  And 
his  Majesty  was  very  gracious  when  I  was  presented, 
and  spoke  to  me  of  Worcester,  and  of  my  horse,  Black 
Hastings  —  he  had  forgot  his  name,  though  —  faith, 
and  mine  too,  I  believe,  had  not  Prince  Rupert  whis- 
pered it  to  him.  And  I  saw  some  old  friends,  such  as  his 
Grace  of  Ormond,  Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  Sir  Philip 
Musgrave,  and  so  forth;  and  had  a  jolly  rouse  or  two, 
to  the  tune  of  old  times.' 

*  I  should  have  thought  so  many  wounds  received  — 
so  many  dangers  risked  —  such  considerable  losses  — 
merited  something  more  than  a  few  smooth  words,'  said 
the  coimtess. 

'Nay,  my  lady,  there  were  other  friends  of  mine  who 
had  the  same  thought,'  answered  Peveril.  'Some  were 
of  opinion  that  the  loss  of  so  many  hundred  acres  of  fair 
land  was  worth  some  reward  of  honour  at  least;  and 
there  were  who  thought  my  descent  from  William  the 
Conqueror  —  craving  your  ladyship's  pardon  for  boast- 
ing it  in  your  presence  —  would  not  have  become  a 
higher  rank  or  title  worse  than  the  pedigree  of  some  who 
have  been  promoted.  But  what  said  the  witty  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  forsooth  —  whose  grandsire  was  a  Lei's- 
tershire  knight,  rather  poorer,  and  scarce  so  well-born 

go 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

as  myself?  Why,  he  said  that,  if  all  of  my  degree  who 
deserved  well  of  the  King  in  the  late  times  were  to  be 
made  peers,  the  House  of  Lords  must  meet  upon  Salis- 
bury Plain ! ' 

'And  that  bad  jest  passed  for  a  good  argument!'  said 
the  countess;  'and  well  it  might,  where  good  arguments 
pass  for  bad  jests.  But  here  comes  one  I  must  be  ac- 
quainted with.' 

This  was  Httle  Julian,  who  now  reentered  the  hall, 
leading  his  little  sister,  as  if  he  had  brought  her  to  bear 
witness  to  the  boastful  tale  which  he  told  his  father,  of 
his  having  manfully  ridden  Black  Hastings  to  the  stable- 
yard,  alone  in  the  saddle;  and  that  Saunders,  though  he 
walked  by  the  horse's  head,  did  not  once  put  his  hand 
upon  the  rein,  and  Brewer,  though  he  stood  beside  him, 
scarce  held  him  by  the  knee.  The  father  kissed  the  boy 
heartily;  and  the  countess,  calling  him  to  her  so  soon  as 
Sir  Geoffrey  had  set  him  down,  kissed  his  forehead  also, 
and  then  surveyed  all  his  features  with  a  keen  and  pene- 
trating eye. 

*He  is  a  true  Peveril,'  said  she,  'mixed  as  he  should  be 
with  some  touch  of  the  Stanley.  Cousin,  you  must  grant 
me  my  boon,  and  when  I  am  safely  established,  and  have 
my  present  affair  arranged,  you  must  let  me  have  this 
little  Julian  of  yours  some  time  hence,  to  be  nurtured 
in  my  house,  held  as  my  page,  and  the  playfellow  of  the 
little  Derby.  I  trust  in  Heaven,  they  will  be  such 
friends  as  their  fathers  have  been,  and  may  God  send 
them  more  fortunate  times !'^ 

'Marry,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  proposal  with  all  my 
heart,  madam,'  said  the  knight.    'There  are  so  many 
*  See  Note  5. 
91 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

noble  houses  decayed,  and  so  many  more  in  which  the 
exercise  and  discipline  for  the  training  of  noble  youths 
is  given  up  and  neglected,  that  I  have  often  feared 
I  must  have  kept  Gil  to  be  young  master  at  home;  and 
I  have  had  too  little  nurture  myself  to  teach  him  much, 
and  so  he  would  have  been  a  mere  hunting,  hawking 
knight  of  Derbyshire.  But  in  your  ladyship's  household, 
and  with  the  noble  young  earl,  he  will  have  all,  and  more 
than  all,  the  education  which  I  could  desire.' 

'There  shall  be  no  distinction  betwixt  them,  cousin,' 
said  the  countess;  'Margaret  Stanley's  son  shall  be  as 
much  the  object  of  care  to  me  as  my  own,  since  you  are 
kindly  disposed  to  entrust  him  to  my  charge.  You  look 
pale,  Margaret,'  she  continued,  'and  the  tear  stands  in 
your  eye.  Do  not  be  so  foolish,  my  love;  what  I  ask  is 
better  than  you  can  desire  for  your  boy;  for  the  house 
of  my  father,  the  Duke  de  la  Tremouille,  was  the  most 
famous  school  of  chivalry  in  France;  nor  have  I  degen- 
erated from  him,  or  suffered  any  relaxation  in  that  noble 
discipline  which  trained  young  gentlemen  to  do  honour 
to  their  race.  You  can  promise  your  Julian  no  such  ad- 
vantages, if  you  train  him  up  a  mere  home-bred  youth.' 

'I  acknowledge  the  importance  of  the  favour,  madam,' 
said  Lady  Peveril,  'and  must  acquiesce  in  what  your 
ladyship  honours  us  by  proposing,  and  Sir  Geoffrey 
approves  of;  but  Juhan  is  an  only  child,  and  — ' 

'An  only  son,'  said  the  countess,  'but  surely  not  an 
only  child.  You  pay  too  high  deference  to  our  masters, 
the  male  sex,  if  you  allow  Julian  to  engross  all  your  affec- 
tion, and  spare  none  for  this  beautiful  girl.' 

So  saying,  she  set  down  Julian,  and,  taking  Alice 
Bridgenorth  on  her  lap,  began  to  caress  her;  and  there 

92 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

was,  notwithstanding  her  masculine  character,  some- 
thing so  sweet  in  the  tone  of  her  voice  and  in  the  cast  of 
her  features,  that  the  child  immediately  smiled,  and  re- 
plied to  her  marks  of  fondness.  This  mistake  embar- 
rassed Lady  Peveril  exceedingly.  Knowing  the  blunt 
impetuosity  of  her  husband's  character,  his  devotion  to 
the  memory  of  the  deceased  Earl  of  Derby,  and  his  cor- 
responding veneration  for  his  widow,  she  was  alarmed 
for  the  consequences  of  his  hearing  the  conduct  of  Bridge- 
north  that  morning,  and  was  particularly  desirous  that 
he  should  not  learn  it  save  from  herself  in  private,  and 
after  due  preparation.  But  the  countess's  error  led  to  a 
more  precipitate  disclosure. 

'That  pretty  girl,  madam,'  answered  Sir  Geoffrey,  *is 
none  of  ours;  I  wish  she  were.  She  belongs  to  a  neigh- 
bour hard  by — a  good  man,  and,  to  say  truth,  a  good 
neighbour,  though  he  was  carried  off  from  his  allegiance 
in  the  late  times  by  a  d — d  Presbyterian  scoundrel,  who 
calls  himself  a  parson,  and  whom  I  hope  to  fetch  down 
from  his  perch  presently,  with  a  wannion  to  him!  He 
has  been  cock  of  the  roost  long  enough.  There  are  rods 
in  pickle  to  switch  the  Geneva  cloak  with,  I  can  tell  the 
sour-faced  rogues  that  much.  But  this  child  is  the 
daughter  of  Bridgenorth  —  neighbour  Bridgenorth,  of 
Moultrassie  Hall.' 

'Bridgenorth!'  said  the  countess.  *I  thought  I  had 
known  all  the  honourable  names  in  Derbyshire;  I  re- 
member nothing  of  Bridgenorth.  But  stay  —  was  there 
not  a  sequestrator  and  committeeman  of  that  name? 
Sure,  it  cannot  be  he.' 

Peveril  took  some  shame  to  himself  as  he  replied,  'It 
is  the  very  man  whom  your  ladyship  means,  and  you 

93 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

may  conceive  the  reluctance  with  which  I  submitted  to 
receive  good  ofl&ces  from  one  of  his  kidney;  but  had  I 
not  done  so,  I  should  have  scarce  known  how  to  find  a 
roof  to  cover  Dame  Margaret's  head.' 

The  countess,  as  he  spoke,  raised  the  child  gently  from 
her  lap  and  placed  it  upon  the  carpet,  though  little  AUce 
showed  a  disinclination  to  the  change  of  place,  which 
the  Lady  of  Derby  and  Man  would  certainly  have  in- 
dulged in  a  child  of  patrician  descent  and  loyal  parent- 
age. 

*  I  blame  you  not,'  she  said ; '  no  one  knows  what  temp- 
tation will  bring  us  down  to.  Yet  I  did  think  Peveril  of 
the  Peak  would  have  resided  in  its  deepest  cavern  sooner 
than  owed  an  obligation  to  a  regicide.' 

'Nay,  madam,'  answered  the  knight,  *my  neighbour  is 
bad  enough,  but  not  so  bad  as  you  would  make  him:  he 
is  but  a  Presbyterian  —  that  I  must  confess  —  but  not 
an  Lidependent.' 

*A  variety  of  the  same  monster,'  said  the  coimtess, 
'who  hallooed  while  the  others  hunted,  and  bound  the 
victim  whom  the  Independents  massacred.  Betwixt 
such  sects  I  prefer  the  Lidependents.  They  are  at  least 
bold,  barefaced,  merciless  villains,  have  more  of  the 
tiger  in  them  and  less  of  the  crocodile.  I  have  no  doubt 
it  was  that  worthy  gentleman  who  took  it  upon  him  this 
morning  — ' 

She  stopped  short,  for  she  saw  Lady  Peveril  was 
vexed  and  embarrassed. 

*I  am,'  she  said,  'the  most  luckless  of  beings.  I  have 
said  something,  I  know  not  what,  to  distress  you,  Mar- 
garet. Mystery  is  a  bad  thing,  and  betwixt  us  there 
should  be  none.' 

94 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'There  is  none,  madam/  said  Lady  Peveril,  some- 
thing impatiently;  'I  waited  but  an  opportunity  to  tell 
my  husband  what  had  happened.  Sir  Geoffrey,  Master 
Bridgenorth  was  unfortunately  here  when  the  Lady 
Derby  and  I  met;  and  he  thought  it  part  of  his  duty  to 
speak  of — ' 

'To  speak  of  what?'  said  the  knight,  bending  his 
brows.  'You  were  ever  something  too  fond,  dame,  of 
giving  way  to  the  usurpation  of  such  people.' 

'I  only  mean,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  'that  as  the  person 
—  he  to  whom  Lady  Derby's  story  related  —  was  the 
brother  of  his  late  lady,  he  threatened  —  but  I  cannot 
think  that  he  was  serious.' 

'Threaten!  —  threaten  the  Lady  of  Derby  and  Man 
in  my  house !  —  the  widow  of  my  friend  —  the  noble 
Charlotte  of  Latham  House!  By  Heaven,  the  prick- 
eared  slave  shall  answer  it!  How  comes  it  that  my 
knaves  threw  him  not  out  of  the  window? ' 

'Alas!  Sir  Geoffrey,  you  forget  how  much  we  owe 
him,'  said  the  lady. 

'Owe  him!'  said  the  knight,  still  more  indignant;  for 
in  his  singleness  of  apprehension  he  conceived  that  his 
wife  alluded  to  pecuniary  obligations;  'if  I  do  owe  him 
some  money,  hath  he  not  security  for  it?  and  must  he 
have  the  right,  over  and  above,  to  domineer  and  play 
the  magistrate  in  Martindale  Castle?  Where  is  he?  what 
have  you  made  of  him?  I  will  —  I  must  speak  with 
him.' 

'Be  patient,  Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  the  countess,  who  now 
discerned  the  cause  of  her  kinswoman's  apprehension; 
'and  be  assured  I  did  not  need  your  chivalry  to  de- 
fend me  against  this  discourteous  faitour,  as  "  Morte 

95 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

d'Arthur"  would  have  called  him.  I  promise  you,  my 
kinswoman  hath  fully  righted  my  wrong;  and  I  am  so 
pleased  to  owe  my  deliverance  entirely  to  her  gallantry, 
that  I  charge  and  command  you,  as  a  true  knight,  not 
to  mingle  in  the  adventure  of  another.' 

Lady  Peveril,  who  knew  her  husband's  blunt  and  im- 
patient temper,  and  perceived  that  he  was  becoming 
angry,  now  took  up  the  story,  and  plainly  and  simply 
pointed  out  the  cause  of  Master  Bridgenorth's  interfer- 
ence. 

*I  am  sorry  for  it,'  said  the  knight;  'I  thought  he  had 
more  sense,  and  that  this  happy  change  might  have 
done  some  good  upon  him.  But  you  should  have  told 
me  this  instantly.  It  consists  not  with  my  honour  that 
he  should  be  kept  prisoner  in  this  house,  as  if  I  feared 
anything  he  could  do  to  annoy  the  noble  countess,  while 
she  is  under  my  roof,  or  within  twenty  miles  of  this 
castle.' 

So  saying,  and  bowing  to  the  countess,  he  went 
straight  to  the  gilded  chamber,  leaving  Lady  Peveril  in 
great  anxiety  for  the  event  of  an  angry  meeting  between 
a  temper  hasty  as  that  of  her  husband  and  stubborn  like 
that  of  Bridgenorth.  Her  apprehensions  were,  however, 
unnecessary;  for  the  meeting  was  not  fated  to  take 
place. 

When  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  having  dismissed  Whit- 
aker  and  his  sentinels,  entered  the  gilded  chamber,  in 
which  he  expected  to  find  his  captive,  the  prisoner  had 
escaped,  and  it  was  easy  to  see  in  what  manner.  The 
sliding  panel  had,  in  the  hurry  of  the  moment,  escaped 
the  memory  of  Lady  Peveril,  and  of  Whitaker,  the  only 
persons  who  knew  anything  of  it.  It  was  probable  that 

96 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

a  chink  had  remained  open,  sufficient  to  indicate  its 
existence  to  Bridgenorth;  who,  withdrawing  it  alto- 
gether, had  found  his  way  into  the  secret  apartment  with 
which  it  communicated,  and  from  thence  to  the  postern 
of  the  castle  by  another  secret  passage,  which  had  been 
formed  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  as  is  not  uncommon 
in  ancient  mansions ;  the  lords  of  which  were  liable  to  so 
many  mutations  of  fortune,  that  they  usually  contrived 
to  secure  some  lurking-place  and  secret  mode  of  retreat 
from  their  fortresses.  That  Bridgenorth  had  discovered 
and  availed  himself  of  this  secret  mode  of  retreat  was 
evident;  because  the  private  doors  communicating  with 
the  postern  and  the  sUding  panel  in  the  gilded  chamber 
were  both  left  open. 

Sir  Geoffrey  returned  to  the  ladies  with  looks  of  per- 
plexity. While  he  deemed  Bridgenorth  within  his  reach, 
he  was  apprehensive  of  nothing  he  could  do;  for  he  felt 
himself  his  superior  in  personal  strength,  and  in  that 
species  of  courage  which  induces  a  man  to  rush,  without 
hesitation,  upon  personal  danger.  But  when  at  a  dis- 
tance, he  had  been  for  many  years  accustomed  to  con- 
sider Bridgenorth's  power  and  influence  as  something 
formidable;  and,  notwithstanding  the  late  change  of 
affairs,  his  ideas  so  naturally  reverted  to  his  neighbour 
as  a  powerful  friend  or  dangerous  enemy,  that  he  felt 
more  apprehension  on  the  coimtess's  score  than  he  was 
willing  to  acknowledge  even  to  himself.  The  countess 
observed  his  downcast  and  anxious  brow,  and  requested 
to  know  if  her  stay  there  was  likely  to  involve  him  in 
any  trouble  or  in  any  danger. 

'The  trouble  should  be  welcome,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey, 
'and  more  welcome  the  danger,  which  should  come  on 

27  97 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

such  an  account.  My  plan  was,  that  your  ladyship 
should  have  honoured  Martindale  with  a  few  days'  resi- 
dence, which  might  have  been  kept  private  until  the 
search  after  you  was  ended.  Had  I  seen  this  fellow 
Bridgenorth,  I  have  no  doubt  I  could  have  compelled 
him  to  act  discreetly;  but  he  is  now  at  liberty,  and  will 
keep  out  of  my  reach;  and,  what  is  worse,  he  has  the 
secret  of  the  priest's  chamber.' 

Here  the  knight  paused,  and  seemed  much  embar- 
rassed. 

'You  can,  then,  neither  conceal  nor  protect  me?'  said 
the  countess. 

'Pardon,  my  honoured  lady,'  answered  the  knight, 
'and  let  me  say  out  my  say.  The  plain  truth  is,  that  this 
man  hath  many  friends  among  the  Presbyterians  here, 
who  are  more  numerous  than  I  would  wish  them;  and 
if  he  falls  in  with  the  pursuivant  fellow  who  carries  the 
warrant  of  the  privy  council,  it  is  likely  he  will  back 
him  with  force  sufficient  to  try  to  execute  it.  And  I 
doubt  whether  any  of  our  own  friends  can  be  sum- 
moned together  in  haste  sufficient  to  resist  such  a  power 
as  they  are  like  to  bring  together,' 

'Nor  would  I  wish  any  friends  to  take  arms,  in  my 
name,  against  the  King's  warrant,  Sir  Geoffrey,'  said 
the  countess. 

'Nay,  for  that  matter,'  replied  the  knight,  'an  his 
Majesty  will  grant  warrants  against  his  best  friends,  he 
must  look  to  have  them  resisted.  But  the  best  I  can 
think  of  in  this  emergence  is  —  though  the  proposal  be 
something  inhospitable  —  that  your  ladyship  should 
take  presently  to  horse,  if  your  fatigue  will  permit.  I 
will  mount  also,  with  some  brisk  fellows,  who  will 

98 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

lodge  you  safe  at  Vale  Royal,  though  the  sheriff  stopped 
the  way  with  a  whole  posse  comitatusJ 

The  Countess  of  Derby  willingly  acquiesced  in  this 
proposal.  She  had  enjoyed  a  night's  sound  repose  in  the 
private  chamber,  to  which  Ellesmere  had  guided  her  on 
the  preceding  evening,  and  was  quite  ready  to  resume 
her  route,  or  flight.  'She  scarce  knew,'  she  said,  'which 
of  the  two  she  should  term  it.' 

Lady  Peveril  wept  at  the  necessity  which  seemed  to 
hurry  her  earliest  friend  and  protectress  from  under  her 
roof,  at  the  instant  when  the  clouds  of  adversity  were 
gathering  around  her;  but  she  saw  no  alternative 
equally  safe.  Nay,  however  strong  her  attachment  to 
Lady  Derby,  she  could  not  but  be  more  readily  recon- 
ciled to  her  hasty  departure,  when  she  considered  the 
inconvenience,  and  even  danger,  in  which  her  presence, 
at  such  a  time,  and  in  such  circumstances,  was  likely  to 
involve  a  man  so  bold  and  hot-tempered  as  her  husband 
Sir  Geoffrey. 

While  Lady  Peveril,  therefore,  made  every  arrange- 
ment which  time  permitted  and  circumstances  required 
for  the  countess  prosecuting  her  journey,  her  husband, 
whose  spirits  always  rose  with  the  prospect  of  action, 
issued  his  orders  to  Whitaker  to  get  together  a  few  stout 
fellows,  with  back  and  breast-pieces,  and  steel-caps. 
'  There  are  the  two  lackeys,  and  Outram  and  Saunders, 
besides  the  other  groom  fellow,  and  Roger  Raine,  and 
his  son  —  but  bid  Roger  not  come  drunk  again  —  thy- 
self, young  Dick  of  the  Dale  and  his  servant,  and  a  file 
or  two  of  the  tenants;  we  shall  be  enough  for  any  force 
they  can  make.  All  these  are  fellows  that  will  strike 
hard,  and  ask  no  question  why:  their  hands  are  ever 

99 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

readier  than  their  tongues,  and  their  mouths  are  more 
made  for  drinking  than  speaking.' 

Whitaker,  apprised  of  the  necessity  of  the  case,  asked 
if  he  should  not  warn  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne. 

'Not  a  word  to  him,  as  you  live,'  said  the  knight; 
'this  may  be  an  outlawry,  as  they  call  it,  for  what  I 
know;  and  therefore  I  will  bring  no  lands  or  tenements 
into  peril  saving  mine  own.  Sir  Jasper  hath  had  a 
troublesome  time  of  it  for  many  a  year.  By  my  will,  he 
shall  sit  quiet  for  the  rest  of  's  days.' 


CHAPTER  VII 

Pang.  A  rescue!  a  rescue! 

Mrs.  Quickly.  Good  people,  bring  a  rescue  or  two. 

Henry  IV,  Parti. 

The  followers  of  Peveril  were  so  well  accustomed  to  the 
sound  of '  Boot  and  saddle,'  that  they  were  soon  mounted 
and  in  order;  and  in  all  the  form,  and  with  some  of  the 
dignity,  of  danger  proceeded  to  escort  the  Countess  of 
Derby  through  the  hilly  and  desert  tract  of  country 
which  connects  the  frontier  of  the  shire  with  the  neigh- 
bouring county  of  Cheshire.  The  cavalcade  moved  with 
considerable  precaution,  which  they  had  been  taught 
by  the  discipline  of  the  Civil  Wars.  One  wary  and  well- 
mounted  trooper  rode  about  two  hundred  yards  in 
advance;  followed  at  about  half  that  distance  by  two 
more,  with  their  carabines  advanced,  as  if  ready  for 
action.  About  one  hundred  yards  behind  the  advance 
came  the  main  body;  where  the  Countess  of  Derby, 
mounted  on  Lady  Peveril's  ambling  palfrey,  for  her  own 
had  been  exhausted  by  the  journey  from  London  to 
Martindale  Castle,  accompanied  by  one  groom  of 
approved  fidelity,  and  one  waiting-maid,  was  attended 
and  guarded  by  the  knight  of  the  Peak  and  three  files  of 
good  and  practised  horsemen.  In  the  rear  came  Whit- 
aker,  with  Lance  Outram,  as  men  of  especial  trust,  to 
whom  the  covering  the  retreat  was  confided.  They  rode, 
as  the  Spanish  proverb  expresses  it,  'with  the  beard  on 
the  shoulder,'  —  looking  around,  that  is,  from  time  to 

lOI 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

time,  and  using  every  precaution  to  have  the  speediest 
knowledge  of  any  pursuit  which  might  take  place. 

But,  however  wise  in  discipline,  Peveril  and  his  fol- 
lowers were  somewhat  remiss  in  civil  policy.  The  knight 
had  communicated  to  Whitaker,  though  without  any 
apparent  necessity,  the  precise  nature  of  their  present 
expedition;  and  Whitaker  was  equally  communicative 
to  his  comrade  Lance,  the  keeper.  '  It  is  strange  enough, 
Master  Whitaker,'  said  the  latter,  when  he  had  heard 
the  case,  'and  I  wish  you,  being  a  wise  man,  would 
expound  it  —  why,  when  we  have  been  wishing  for  the 
King,  and  praying  for  the  King,  and  fighting  for  the 
King,  and  dying  for  the  King,  for  these  twenty  years, 
the  first  thing  we  find  to  do  on  his  return  is  to  get  into 
harness  to  resist  his  warrant !  * 

'Pooh!  you  silly  fellow,'  said  WTiitaker,  'that  is  all 
you  know  of  the  true  bottom  of  our  quarrel !  Why,  man, 
we  fought  for  the  King's  person  against  his  warrant  all 
along  from  the  very  beginning;  for  I  remember  the 
rogues'  proclamations,  and  so  forth,  always  ran  in  the 
name  of  the  King  and  Parliament.' 

*Ay!  was  it  even  so?'  replied  Lance.  'Nay,  then,  if 
they  begin  the  old  game  so  soon  again,  and  send  out 
warrants  in  the  King's  name  against  his  loyal  subjects, 
well  fare  our  stout  knight,  say  I,  who  is  ready  to  take 
them  down  in  their  stocking-soles.  And  if  Bridgenorth 
takes  the  chase  after  us,  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  have  a 
knock  at  him  for  one.' 

'Why,  the  man,  bating  he  is  a  pestilent  Roundhead 
and  Puritan,'  said  Whitaker,  'is  no  bad  neighbour. 
What  has  he  done  to  thee,  man?' 

'He  has  poached  on  the  manor/  answered  the  keeper. 

I02 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'The  devil  he  has ! '  replied  Whitaker.  'Thou  must  be 
jesting,  Lance.  Bridgenorth  is  neither  hunter  nor  haw- 
ker;  he  hath  not  so  much  of  honesty  in  him.' 

'Ay,  but  he  runs  after  game  you  little  think  of,  with 
his  sour,  melancholy  face,  that  would  scare  babes  and 
curdle  milk,'  answered  Lance. 

'Thou  canst  not  mean  the  wenches?'  said  Whitaker: 
'why,  he  hath  been  melancholy  mad  with  moping  for 
the  death  of  his  wife.  Thou  knowest  our  lady  took  the 
child,  for  fear  he  should  strangle  it,  for  putting  him  in 
mind  of  its  mother,  in  some  of  his  tantrums.  Under  her 
favour,  and  among  friends,  there  are  many  poor  Cava- 
liers' children  that  care  would  be  better  bestowed  upon. 
But  to  thy  tale.' 

'Why,  thus  it  runs,'  said  Lance.  'I  think  you  may 
have  noticed,  Master  Whitaker,  that  a  certain  Mistress 
Deborah  hath  manifested  a  certain  favour  for  a  certain 
person  in  a  certain  household.' 

'For  thyself,  to  wit,'  answered  Whitaker;  'Lance 
Outram,  thou  art  the  vainest  coxcomb  — ' 

'Coxcomb!'  said  Lance;  'why,  'twas  but  last  night 
the  whole  family  saw  her,  as  one  would  say,  fling  herself 
at  my  head.' 

'I  would  she  had  been  a  brick-bat,  then,  to  have 
broken  it,  for  thy  impertinence  and  conceit,'  said  the 
steward. 

'Well,  but  do  but  hearken.  The  next  morning  — 
that  is,  this  very  blessed  morning  —  I  thought  of  going 
to  lodge  a  buck  in  the  park,  judging  a  bit  of  venison 
might  be  wanted  in  the  larder,  after  yesterday's  was- 
sail; and,  as  I  passed  under  the  nursery  window,  I  did 
but  just  look  up  to  see  what  madam  governante  was 

103 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

about;  and  so  I  saw  her,  through  the  casement,  whip  on 
her  hood  and  scarf  as  soon  as  she  had  a  glimpse  of  me. 
Immediately  after  I  saw  the  still-room  door  open,  and 
made  sure  she  was  coming  through  the  garden,  and  so 
over  the  breach  and  down  to  the  park;  and  so,  thought 
I,  "Aha,  Mistress  Deb,  if  you  are  so  ready  to  dance 
after  my  pipe  and  tabor,  I  will  give  you  a  couranto 
before  you  shall  come  up  with  me."  And  so  I  went  down 
Ivy-Tod  Dingle,  where  the  copse  is  tangled  and  the 
ground  swampy,  and  round  by  Haxley  Bottom,  think- 
ing all  the  while  she  was  following,  and  laughing  in  my 
sleeve  at  the  round  I  was  giving  her.' 

'You  deserved  to  be  ducked  for  it,'  said  Whitaker, 
*for  a  weather-headed  puppy;  but  what  is  all  this  Jack- 
a-Lantern  story  to  Bridgenorth? ' 

'Why,  it  was  all  along  of  he,  man,'  continued  Lance, 
'that  is,  of  Bridgenorth,  that  she  did  not  follow  me. 
Gad,  I  first  walked  slow,  and  then  stopped,  and  then 
turned  back  a  Httle,  and  then  began  to  wonder  what  she 
had  made  of  herself,  and  to  think  I  had  borne  myself 
something  like  a  jackass  in  the  matter.' 

'That  I  deny,'  said  Whitaker,  'never  jackass  but 
would  have  borne  him  better;  but  go  on.' 

'Why,  turning  my  face  towards  the  castle,  I  went 
back  as  if  I  had  my  nose  bleeding,  when,  just  by  the 
Copely  thorn,  which  stands,  you  know,  a  flight-shot 
from  the  postern  gate,  I  saw  Madam  Deb  in  close  con- 
ference with  the  enemy.' 

'What  enemy?'  said  the  steward. 

'What  enemy!  why,  who  but  Bridgenorth?  They 
kept  out  of  sight,  and  among  the  copse.  "  But,"  thought 
I,  "it  is  hard  if  I  cannot  stalk  you,  that  have  stalked  so 

104 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

many  bucks.  If  so,  I  had  better  give  my  shafts  to  be 
pudding-pins."  So  I  cast  round  the  thicket,  to  watch  their 
waters;  and,  may  I  never  bend  cross-bow  again,  if  I  did 
not  see  him  give  her  gold,  and  squeeze  her  by  the  hand ! ' 

'And  was  that  all  you  saw  pass  between  them?'  said 
the  steward. 

'Faith,  and  it  was  enough  to  dismount  me  from  my 
hobby,'  said  Lance.  'What!  when  I  thought  I  had  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  castle  dancing  after  my  whistle,  to 
find  that  she  gave  me  the  bag  to  hold,  and  was  smug- 
gling in  a  corner  with  a  rich  old  Puritan ! ' 

'Credit  me.  Lance,  it  is  not  as  thou  thinkest,'  said 
Whitaker.  'Bridgenorth  cares  not  for  these  amorous 
toys,  and  thou  thinkest  of  nothing  else.  But  it  is  fitting 
our  knight  should  know  that  he  has  met  with  Deborah 
in  secret,  and  given  her  gold;  for  never  Puritan  gave 
gold  yet,  but  it  was  earnest  for  some  devil's  work  done 
or  to  be  done.' 

'Nay,  but,'  said  Lance,  'I  would  not  be  such  a  dog- 
bolt  as  to  go  and  betray  the  girl  to  our  master.  She  hath 
a  right  to  follow  her  fancy,  as  the  dame  said  who  kissed 
her  cow;  only  I  do  not  much  approve  her  choice,  that 
is  all.  He  cannot  be  six  years  short  of  fifty;  and  a  ver- 
juice countenance,  under  the  penthouse  of  a  slouched 
beaver,  and  bag  of  meagre  dried  bones,  swaddled  up  in 
a  black  cloak,  is  no  such  temptation,  methinks.' 

'I  tell  you  once  more,'  said  Whitaker,  'you  are  mis- 
taken ;  and  that  there  neither  is  nor  can  be  any  matter  of 
love  between  them,  but  only  some  intrigue,  concerning, 
perhaps,  this  same  noble  Countess  of  Derby.  I  tell  thee, 
it  behoves  my  master  to  know  it,  and  I  will  presently 
tell  it  to  him.' 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

So  saying,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  remonstrances  which 
Lance  continued  to  make  on  behalf  of  Mistress  Deborah, 
the  steward  rode  up  to  the  main  body  of  their  little 
party,  and  mentioned  to  the  knight  and  the  Countess 
of  Derby  what  he  had  just  heard  from  the  keeper,  add- 
ing at  the  same  time  his  own  suspicions  that  Master 
Bridgenorth  of  Moultrassie  Hall  was  desirous  to  keep  up 
some  system  of  espial  in  the  Castle  of  Martindale,  either 
in  order  to  secure  his  menaced  vengeance  on  the  Coun- 
tess of  Derby,  as  authoress  of  his  brother-in-law's  death, 
or  for  some  unknown,  but  probably  sinister,  purpose. 

The  knight  of  the  Peak  was  filled  with  high  resent- 
ment at  Whitaker's  communication.  According  to  his 
prejudices,  those  of  the  opposite  faction  were  supposed 
to  make  up  by  wit  and  intrigue  what  they  wanted  in 
open  force;  and  he  now  hastily  conceived  that  his  neigh- 
bour, whose  prudence  he  always  respected,  and  some- 
times even  dreaded,  was  maintaining,  for  his  private 
purposes,  a  clandestine  correspondence  with  a  member 
of  his  family.  If  this  was  for  the  betrayal  of  his  noble 
guest,  it  argued  at  once  treachery  and  presumption;  or, 
viewing  the  whole  as  Lance  had  done,  a  criminal  in- 
trigue with  a  woman  so  near  the  person  of  Lady  Peveril 
was  in  itself,  he  deemed,  a  piece  of  sovereign  imperti- 
nence and  disrespect  on  the  part  of  such  a  person  as 
Bridgenorth,  against  whom  Sir  Geoffrey's  anger  was 
kindled  accordingly. 

Whitaker  had  scarce  regained  his  post  in  the  rear, 
when  he  again  quitted  it,  and  galloped  to  the  main  body 
with  more  speed  than  before,  with  the  unpleasing  tid- 
ings that  they  were  pursued  by  half  a  score  of  horsemen 
and  better. 

1 06 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Ride  on  briskly  to  Hartley  Nick,'  said  the  knight,  'and 
there,  with  God  to  help,  we  will  bide  the  knaves.  Coun- 
tess of  Derby,  one  word  and  a  short  one.  Farewell!  you 
must  ride  forward  with  Whitaker  and  another  careful 
fellow,  and  let  me  alone  to  see  that  no  one  treads  on  your 
skirts.' 

'I  will  abide  with  you  and  stand  them,'  said  the  coun- 
tess; 'you  know  of  old,  I  fear  not  to  look  on  man's  work.' 

'You  must  ride  on,  madam,'  said  the  knight,  'for  the 
sake  of  the  young  earl  and  the  rest  of  my  noble  friend's 
family.  There  is  no  manly  w^ork  which  can  be  worth 
your  looking  upon:  it  is  but  child's  play  that  these  fel- 
lows bring  with  them.' 

As  she  yielded  a  reluctant  consent  to  continue  her 
flight,  they  reached  the  bottom  of  Hartley  Nick  —  a 
pass  very  steep  and  craggy,  and  where  the  road,  or 
rather  path,  which  had  hitherto  passed  over  more  open 
ground,  became  pent  up  and  confined,  betwixt  copse- 
wood  on  the  one  side  and  on  the  other  the  precipitous 
bank  of  a  mountain  stream. 

The  Countess  of  Derby,  after  an  affectionate  adieu  to 
Sir  Geoffrey,  and  having  requested  him  to  convey  her 
kind  commendations  to  her  little  page-elect,  and  his 
mother,  proceeded  up  the  pass  at  a  round  pace,  and, 
with  her  attendants  and  escort,  was  soon  out  of  sight. 
Immediately  after  she  had  disappeared,  the  pursuers 
came  up  with  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  who  had  divided  and 
drawn  up  his  party  so  as  completely  to  occupy  the  road 
at  three  different  points. 

The  opposite  party  was  led,  as  Sir  Geoffrey  had  ex- 
pected, by  Major  Bridgenorth.  At  his  side  was  a  person 
in  black,  with  a  silver  greyhound  on  his  arm;  and  he  was 

107 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

followed  by  about  eight  or  ten  inhabitants  of  the  village 
of  Martindale-Moultrassie,  two  or  three  of  whom  were 
officers  of  the  peace,  and  others  were  personally  known 
to  Sir  Geoffrey  as  favourers  of  the  subverted  govern- 
ment. 

As  the  party  rode  briskly  up,  Sir  Geoffrey  called  to 
them  to  halt;  and  as  they  continued  advancing,  he 
ordered  his  own  people  to  present  their  pistols  and  cara- 
bines; and  after  assuming  that  menacing  attitude,  he 
repeated,  with  a  voice  of  thunder,  'Halt,  or  we  fire!' 

The  other  party  halted  accordingly,  and  Major 
Bridgenorth  advanced,  as  if  to  parley. 

'Why,  how  now,  neighbour,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  as  if 
he  had  at  that  moment  recognised  him  for  the  first  time, 
'what  makes  you  ride  so  sharp  this  morning?  Are  you 
not  afraid  to  harm  your  horse  or  spoil  your  spurs? ' 

'Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  the  major,  'I  have  no  time  for 
jesting:  I  am  on  the  King's  affairs.' 

'Are  you  sure  it  is  not  upon  Old  Noll's,  neighbour? 
You  used  to  hold  his  the  better  errand,'  said  the  knight, 
with  a  smile  which  gave  occasion  to  a  horse-laugh 
among  his  followers. 

'Show  him  your  warrant,'  said  Bridgenorth  to  the 
man  in  black  formerly  mentioned,  who  was  a  pursuivant. 
Then  taking  the  warrant  from  the  officer,  he  gave  it  to 
Sir  Geoffrey.  'To  this,  at  least,  you  will  pay  regard.' 

'The  same  regard  which  you  would  have  paid  to  it  a 
month  back  or  so,'  said  the  knight,  tearing  the  warrant 
to  shreds.  'What  a  plague  do  you  stare  at?  Do  you 
think  you  have  a  monopoly  of  rebellion,  and  that  we 
have  not  a  right  to  show  a  trick  of  disobedience  in  our 
turn? ' 

io8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Make  way,  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,'  said  Bridgenorth, 
'or  you  will  compel  me  to  do  that  I  may  be  sorry  for. 
I  am  in  this  matter  the  avenger  of  the  blood  of  one 
of  the  Lord's  saints,  and  I  will  follow  the  chase  while 
Heaven  grants  me  an  arm  to  make  my  way.' 

'You  shall  make  no  way  here,  but  at  your  peril,'  said 
Sir  Geoffrey;  'this  is  my  ground.  I  have  been  harassed 
enough  for  these  twenty  years  by  saints,  as  you  call 
yourselves.  I  tell  you,  master,  you  shall  neither  violate 
the  security  of  my  house,  nor  pursue  my  friends  over 
the  grounds,  nor  tamper,  as  you  have  done,  amongst 
my  servants,  with  impunity.  I  have  had  you  in  respect 
for  certain  kind  doings,  which  I  will  not  either  forget 
or  deny,  and  you  will  find  it  difficult  to  make  me  draw 
a  sword  or  bend  a  pistol  against  you;  but  offer  any 
hostile  movement,  or  presume  to  advance  a  foot,  and  I 
will  make  sure  of  you  presently.  And  for  these  rascals, 
who  come  hither  to  annoy  a  noble  lady  on  my  bounds, 
unless  you  draw  them  off,  I  will  presently  send  some  of 
them  to  the  devil  before  their  time.' 

'Make  room  at  your  proper  peril,'  said  Major  Bridge- 
north;  and  he  put  his  right  hand  on  his  holster-pistol. 
Sir  Geoffrey  closed  with  him  instantly,  seized  him  by  the 
collar,  and  spurred  Black  Hastings,  checking  him  at  the 
same  time,  so  that  the  horse  made  a  courbette,  and 
brought  the  full  weight  of  his  chest  against  the  counter 
of  the  other.  A  ready  soldier  might,  in  Bridgenorth's 
situation,  have  rid  himself  of  his  adversary  with  a 
bullet.  But  Bridgenorth's  courage,  notwithstanding  his 
having  served  some  time  with  the  ParHament  army, 
was  rather  of  a  civil  than  a  military  character;  and  he 
was  inferior  to  his  adversary,  not  only  in  strength  and 

109 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

horsemanship,  but  also  and  especially  in  the  daring  and 
decisive  resolution  which  made  Sir  Geoffrey  thrust  him- 
self readily  into  personal  contest.  While,  therefore,  they 
tugged  and  grappled  together  upon  terms  which  bore 
such  httle  accordance  with  their  long  acquaintance  and 
close  neighbourhood,  it  was  no  wonder  that  Bridgenorth 
should  be  unhorsed  with  much  violence.  While  Sir 
Geoffrey  sprung  from  the  saddle,  the  party  of  Bridge- 
north  advanced  to  rescue  their  leader,  and  that  of  the 
knight  to  oppose  them.  Swords  were  unsheathed  and 
pistols  presented;  but  Sir  Geoffrey,  with  the  voice  of  a 
herald,  commanded  both  parties  to  stand  back,  and  to 
keep  the  peace. 

The  pursuivant  took  the  hint,  and  easily  found  a 
reason  for  not  prosecuting  a  dangerous  duty.  '  The  war- 
rant,' he  said,  'was  destroyed.  They  that  did  it  must  be 
answerable  to  the  council ;  for  his  part,  he  could  proceed 
no  farther  without  his  commission.' 

'Well  said,  and  like  a  peaceable  fellow!'  said  Sir 
Geoffrey.  'Let  him  have  refreshment  at  the  castle;  his 
nag  is  sorely  out  of  condition.  Come,  neighbour  Bridge- 
north,  get  up,  man.  I  trust  you  have  had  no  hurt  in  this 
mad  affray?  I  was  loth  to  lay  hand  on  you,  man,  till 
you  plucked  out  your  petronel.' 

As  he  spoke  thus,  he  aided  the  major  to  rise.  The 
pursuivant,  meanwhile,  drew  aside;  and  with  him  the 
constable  and  head  borough,  who  were  not  without  some 
tacit  suspicion  that,  though  Peveril  was  interrupting 
the  direct  course  of  law  in  this  matter,  yet  he  was  Hkely 
to  have  his  offence  considered  by  favourable  judges; 
and  therefore  it  might  be  as  much  for  their  interest  and 
safety  to  give  way  as  to  oppose  him.  But  the  rest  of  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

party,  friends  of  Bridgenorth  and  of  his  principles,  kept 
their  ground  notwithstanding  this  defection,  and  seemed, 
from  their  looks,  sternly  determined  to  rule  their  con- 
duct by  that  of  their  leader,  whatever  it  might  be. 

But  it  was  evident  that  Bridgenorth  did  not  intend  to 
renew  the  struggle.  He  shook  himself  rather  roughly 
free  from  the  hands  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril;  but  it  was 
not  to  draw  his  sword.  On  the  contrary,  he  mounted 
his  horse  with  a  sullen  and  dejected  air;  and,  making  a 
sign  to  his  followers,  turned  back  the  same  road  which 
he  had  come.  Sir  Geoffrey  looked  after  him  for  some 
minutes.  'Now,  there  goes  a  man,'  said  he,  'who  would 
have  been  a  right  honest  fellow  had  he  not  been  a  Pres- 
byterian. But  there  is  no  heartiness  about  them:  they 
can  never  forgive  a  fair  fall  upon  the  sod;  they  bear 
malice,  and  that  I  hate  as  I  do  a  black  cloak,  or  a 
Geneva  skull-cap,  and  a  pair  of  long  ears  rising  on  each 
side  on  't,  like  two  chimneys  at  the  gable  ends  of  a 
thatched  cottage.  They  are  as  sly  as  the  devil  to  boot; 
and,  therefore,  Lance  Outram,  take  two  with  you,  and 
keep  after  them,  that  they  may  not  turn  our  flank,  and 
get  on  the  track  of  the  countess  again  after  all.' 

'I  had  as  soon  they  should  course  my  lady's  white 
tame  doe,'  answered  Lance,  in  the  spirit  of  his  calling. 
He  proceeded  to  execute  his  master's  orders  by  dogging 
Major  Bridgenorth  at  a  distance,  and  observing  his 
course  from  such  heights  as  commanded  the  country. 
But  it  was  soon  evident  that  no  manoeuvre  was  intended, 
and  that  the  major  was  taking  the  direct  road  home- 
ward. When  this  was  ascertained,  Sir  Geoffrey  dismissed 
most  of  his  followers;  and,  retaining  only  his  own  domes- 
tics, rode  hastily  forward  to  overtake  the  countess. 

Ill 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

It  is  only  necessary  to  say  further,  that  he  completed 
his  purpose  of  escorting  the  Countess  of  Derby  to  Vale 
Royal,  without  meeting  any  further  hindrance  by  the 
way.  The  lord  of  the  mansion  readily  undertook  to 
conduct  the  high-minded  lady  to  Liverpool,  and  the 
task  of  seeing  her  safely  embarked  for  her  son's  hered- 
itary dominions,  where  there  was  no  doubt  of  her  re- 
maining in  personal  safety  until  the  accusation  against 
her  for  breach  of  the  royal  indemnity,  by  the  execution 
of  Christian,  could  be  brought  to  some  compromise. 

For  a  length  of  time  this  was  no  easy  matter.  Claren- 
don, then  at  the  head  of  Charles's  administration,  con- 
sidered her  rash  action,  though  dictated  by  motives 
which  the  human  breast  must,  in  some  respects,  sym- 
pathise with,  as  calculated  to  shake  the  restored  tran- 
quillity of  England,  by  exciting  the  doubts  and  jeal- 
ousies of  those  who  had  to  apprehend  the  consequences 
of  what  is  called,  in  our  own  time,  a  reaction.  At  the 
same  time,  the  high  services  of  this  distinguished  family, 
the  merits  of  the  countess  herself,  the  memory  of  her 
gallant  husband,  and  the  very  peculiar  circumstances 
of  jurisdiction  which  took  the  case  out  of  all  common 
rules,  pleaded  strongly  in  her  favour;  and  the  death  of 
Christian  was  at  length  only  punished  by  the  imposition 
of  a  heavy  fine,  amounting,  we  beUeve,  to  many  thou- 
sand pounds,  which  was  levied,  with  great  difficulty, 
out  of  the  shattered  estates  of  the  young  Earl  of  Derby. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

My  native  land,  good-nightl 


Byron. 


Lady  Peveril  remained  in  no  small  anxiety  for  several 
hours  after  her  husband  and  the  countess  had  departed 
from  Martindale  Castle;  more  especially  when  she 
learned  that  Major  Bridgenorth,  concerning  whose 
motions  she  made  private  inquiry,  had  taken  horse  with 
a  party,  and  was  gone  to  the  westward  in  the  same 
direction  with  Sir  Geoffrey. 

At  length  her  immediate  uneasiness  in  regard  to  the 
safety  of  her  husband  and  the  countess  was  removed  by 
the  arrival  of  Whitaker,  with  her  husband's  commenda- 
tions, and  an  account  of  the  scuffle  betwixt  himself  and 
Major  Bridgenorth. 

Lady  Peveril  shuddered  to  see  how  nearly  they  had 
approached  to  renewal  of  the  scenes  of  civil  discord; 
and  while  she  was  thankful  to  Heaven  for  her  husband's 
immediate  preservation,  she  could  not  help  feeling  both 
regret  and  apprehension  for  the  consequences  of  his 
quarrel  with  Major  Bridgenorth.  They  had  now  lost  an 
old  friend,  who  had  showed  himself  such  under  those 
circumstances  of  adversity  by  which  friendship  is  most 
severely  tried;  and  she  could  not  disguise  from  herself 
that  Bridgenorth,  thus  irritated,  might  be  a  troublesome, 
if  not  a  dangerous,  enemy.  His  rights  as  a  creditor  he 
had  hitherto  used  with  gentleness;  but  if  he  should 
employ  rigour,  Lady  Peveril,  whose  attention  to  domes- 
27  113 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tic  economy  had  made  her  much  better  acquainted  with 
her  husband's  affairs  than  he  was  himself,  foresaw  con- 
siderable inconvenience  from  the  measures  which  the 
law  put  in  his  power.  She  comforted  herself  with  the 
recollection,  however,  that  she  had  still  a  strong  hold 
on  Bridgenorth,  through  his  paternal  affection,  and  from 
the  fixed  opinion  which  he  had  hitherto  manifested  that 
his  daughter's  health  could  only  flourish  while  under 
her  charge.  But  any  expectations  of  reconciliation 
which  Lady  Peveril  might  probably  have  founded  on 
this  circumstance  were  frustrated  by  an  incident  which 
took  place  in  the  course  of  the  following  morning. 

The  governante,  Mistress  Deborah,  who  has  been 
already  mentioned,  went  forth,  as  usual,  with  the  chil- 
dren, to  take  their  morning  exercise  in  the  park,  accom- 
panied by  Rachael,  a  girl  who  acted  occasionally  as  her 
assistant  in  attending  upon  them.  But  not  as  usual  did 
she  return.  It  was  near  the  hour  of  breakfast,  when 
Ellesmere,  with  an  unwonted  degree  of  primness  in  her 
mouth  and  manner,  came  to  acquaint  her  lady  that 
Mistress  Deborah  had  not  thought  proper  to  come  back 
from  the  park,  though  the  breakfast-hour  approached  so 
near. 

'She  will  come,  then,  presently,'  said  Lady  Peveril, 
with  indifference. 

Ellesmere  gave  a  short  and  doubtful  cough,  and  then 
proceeded  to  say,  that  Rachael  had  been  sent  home  with 
little  Master  Julian,  and  that  Mistress  Deborah  had 
been  pleased  to  say  she  would  walk  on  with  Miss  Bridge- 
north  as  far  as  Moultrassie  Holt;  which  was  a  point  at 
which  the  property  of  the  major,  as  matters  now  stood, 
bounded  that  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril. 

114 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*Is  the  wench  turned  silly,'  exclaimed  the  lady,  some- 
thing angrily,  'that  she  does  not  obey  my  orders,  and 
return  at  regular  hours?' 

'She  may  be  turning  silly,'  said  Ellesmere,  mysteri- 
ously; 'or  she  may  be  turning  too  sly;  and  I  think  it 
were  as  well  your  ladyship  looked  to  it.' 

'Looked  to  what,  Ellesmere?'  said  the  lady,  impa- 
tiently. 'You  are  strangely  oracular  this  morning.  If 
you  know  anything  to  the  prejudice  of  this  young  wo- 
man, I  pray  you  speak  it  out.' 

'I  prejudice!'  said  Ellesmere.  'I  scorn  to  prejudice 
man,  woman,  or  child  in  the  way  of  a  fellow-servant; 
only  I  wish  your  ladyship  to  look  about  you,  and  use 
your  own  eyes,  that  is  all.' 

'You  bid  me  use  my  own  eyes,  Ellesmere;  but  I  sus- 
pect,' answered  the  lady,  'you  would  be  better  pleased 
were  I  contented  to  see  through  your  spectacles.  I 
charge  you  —  and  you  know  I  will  be  obeyed  —  I  charge 
you  to  tell  me  what  you  know  or  suspect  about  this  girl, 
Deborah  Debbitch. ' 

'  /  see  through  spectacles ! '  exclaimed  the  indignant 
abigail;  'your  ladyship  will  pardon  me  in  that,  for  I 
never  use  them,  unless  a  pair  that  belonged  to  my  poor 
mother,  which  I  put  on  when  your  ladyship  wants  your 
pinners  curiously  wrought.  No  woman  above  sixteen 
ever  did  white-seam  without  barnacles.  And  then  as  to 
suspecting,  I  suspect  nothing ;  for,  as  your  ladyship  hath 
taken  Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch  from  under  my  hand, 
to  be  sure  it  is  neither  bread  nor  butter  of  mine.  Only 
(here  she  began  to  speak  with  her  lips  shut,  so  as  scarce 
to  permit  a  sound  to  issue,  and  mincing  her  words  as  if 
she  pinched  off  the  ends  of  them  before  she  suffered 

"5 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

them  to  escape)  —  only,  madam,  if  Mistress  Deborah 
goes  so  often  of  a  morning  to  Moultrassie  Holt,  why,  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  she  should  never  find  the  way 
back  again.' 

'  Once  more,  what  do  you  mean,  Ellesmere?  You  were 
wont  to  have  some  sense ;  let  me  know  distinctly  what  the 
matter  is.' 

'Only,  madam,'  pursued  the  abigail,  'that,  since 
Bridgenorth  came  back  from  Chesterfield,  and  saw  you 
at  the  castle  hall.  Mistress  Deborah  has  been  pleased 
to  carry  the  children  every  morning  to  that  place ;  and 
it  has  so  happened  that  she  has  often  met  the  major,  as 
they  call  him,  there  in  his  walks  —  for  he  can  walk  about 
now  like  other  folks  —  and  I  warrant  you  she  hath  not 
been  the  worse  of  the  meeting  —  one  way  at  least,  for 
she  hath  bought  a  new  hood  might  serve  yourself, 
madam ;  but  whether  she  hath  had  anything  in  hand  be- 
sides a  piece  of  money,  no  doubt  your  ladyship  is  best 
judge.' 

Lady  Peveril,  who  readily  adopted  the  more  good-na- 
tured construction  of  the  governante's  motives,  could 
not  help  laughing  at  the  idea  of  a  man  of  Bridgenorth's 
precise  appearance,  strict  principles,  and  reserved  habits 
being  suspected  of  a  design  of  gallantry ;  and  readily  con- 
cluded that  Mistress  Deborah  had  found  her  advantage 
in  gratif }dng  his  parental  ailection  by  a  frequent  sight  of 
his  daughter  during  the  few  days  which  intervened  be- 
twixt his  first  seeing  little  Alice  at  the  castle  and  the 
events  which  had  followed.  But  she  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised when,  an  hour  after  the  usual  breakfast-hour, 
during  which  neither  the  child  nor  Mistress  Deborah 
appeared.  Major  Bridgenorth's  only  man-servant  ar- 

ii6 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

rived  at  the  castle  on  horseback,  dressed  as  for  a  journey, 
and  having  delivered  a  letter  addressed  to  herself,  and 
another  to  Mistress  Ellesmere,  rode  away  without  wait- 
ing any  answer. 

There  would  have  been  nothing  remarkable  in  this, 
had  any  other  person  been  concerned ;  but  Major  Bridge- 
north  was  so  very  quiet  and  orderly  in  all  his  proceed- 
ings, so  little  liable  to  act  hastily  or  by  impulse,  that  the 
least  appearance  of  bustle  where  he  was  concerned  ex- 
cited surprise  and  curiosity. 

Lady  Peveril  broke  her  letter  hastily  open,  and  found 
that  it  contained  the  following  lines :  — 

For  the  hands  of  the  Honourable  and  Honoured 
Lady  Peveril  —  These : 
Madam  —  Please  it  your  Ladyship, 

I  write  more  to  excuse  myself  to  your  ladyship  than 
to  accuse  either  you  or  others,  in  respect  that  I  am  sen- 
sible it  becomes  our  frail  nature  better  to  confess  our 
own  imperfections  than  to  complain  of  those  of  others. 
Neither  do  I  mean  to  speak  of  past  times,  particularly 
in  respect  of  your  worthy  ladyship,  being  sensible  that  if 
I  have  served  you  in  that  period  when  our  Israel  might  be 
called  triumphant,  you  have  more  than  requited  me,  in 
giving  to  my  arms  a  child,  redeemed,  as  it  were,  from  the 
vale  of  the  shadow  of  death.  And  therefore,  as  I  heartily 
forgive  to  your  ladyship  the  unkind  and  violent  measure 
which  you  dealt  to  me  at  our  last  meeting,  seeing  that 
the  woman  who  was  the  cause  of  strife  is  accounted  one 
of  your  kindred  people,  I  do  entreat  you,  in  like  manner, 
to  pardon  my  enticing  away  from  your  service  the  young 
woman  called  Deborah  Debbitch,  whose  nurture,  in- 

117 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

structed  as  she  hath  been  under  your  ladyship's  direc- 
tion, is,  it  may  be,  indispensable  to  the  health  of  my 
dearest  child.  I  had  purposed,  madam,  with  your  gra- 
cious permission,  that  Alice  should  have  remained  at 
Martindale  Castle,  under  your  kind  charge,  until  she 
could  so  far  discern  betwixt  good  and  evil  that  it  should 
be  matter  of  conscience  to  teach  her  the  way  in  which 
she  should  go.  For  it  is  not  unknown  to  your  ladyship, 
and  in  no  way  do  I  speak  it  reproachfully,  but  rather 
sorrowfully,  that  a  person  so  excellently  gifted  as  your- 
self —  I  mean  touching  natural  qualities  —  has  not  yet 
received  that  true  light  which  is  a  lamp  to  the  paths,  but 
are  contented  to  stumble  in  darkness,  and  among  the 
graves  of  dead  men. 

It  has  been  my  prayer  in  the  watches  of  the  night 
that  your  ladyship  should  cease  from  the  doctrine 
which  causeth  to  err;  but  I  grieve  to  say  that,  our 
candlestick  being  about  to  be  removed,  the  land  will 
most  likely  be  involved  in  deeper  darkness  than  ever; 
and  the  return  of  the  King,  to  which  I  and  many 
looked  forward  as  a  manifestation  of  Divine  favour, 
seems  to  prove  little  else  than  a  permitted  triumph  of 
the  Prince  of  the  Air,  who  setteth  about  to  restore  his 
vanity  fair  of  bishops,  deans,  and  such-like,  extruding 
the  peaceful  ministers  of  the  Word,  whose  labours  have 
proved  faithful  to  many  hungry  souls.  So,  hearing  from 
a  sure  hand  that  commission  has  gone  forth  to  restore 
these  dumb  dogs,  the  followers  of  Laud  and  of  Williams, 
who  were  cast  forth  by  the  late  Parliament,  and  that 
an  Act  of  Conformity,  or  rather  of  deformity,  of  wor- 
ship was  to  be  expected,  it  is  my  purpose  to  fiy  from 
the  wrath  to  come,  and  to  seek  some  corner  where  I  may 

^Ii8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

dwell  in  peace  and  enjoy  liberty  of  conscience.  For  who 
would  abide  in  the  sanctuary  after  the  carved  work 
thereof  is  broken  down,  and  when  it  hath  been  made  a 
place  for  owls  and  satyrs  of  the  wilderness?  And  herein 
I  blame  myself,  madam,  that  I  went  in  the  singleness  of 
my  heart  too  readily  into  that  carousing  in  the  house 
of  feasting,  wherein  my  love  of  union,  and  my  desire 
to  show  respect  to  your  ladyship,  were  made  a  snare 
to  me. 

But  I  trust  it  will  be  an  atonement,  that  I  am  now 
about  to  absent  myself  from  the  place  of  my  birth  and 
the  house  of  my  fathers,  as  well  as  from  the  place  which 
holdeth  the  dust  of  those  pledges  of  my  affection.  I  have 
also  to  remember,  that  in  this  land  my  honour,  after  the 
worldly  estimation,  hath  been  abated,  and  my  utility 
circumscribed,  by  your  husband.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril; 
and  that  without  any  chance  of  my  obtaining  reparation 
at  his  hand,  whereby  I  may  say  the  hand  of  a  kinsman 
was  lifted  up  against  my  credit  and  my  life.  These  things 
are  bitter  to  the  taste  of  the  old  Adam;  wherefore,  to 
prevent  further  bickerings,  and,  it  may  be,  bloodshed, 
it  is  better  that  I  leave  this  land  for  a  time.  The  affairs 
which  remain  to  be  settled  between  Sir  Geoffrey  and 
myself,  I  shall  place  in  the  hand  of  the  righteous  Master 
Joachim  Win- the-Fight,  an  attorney  in  Chester,  who  will 
arrange  them  with  such  attention  to  Sir  Geoffrey's  con- 
venience as  justice  and  the  due  exercise  of  the  law  will 
permit;  for,  as  I  trust  I  shall  have  grace  to  resist  the 
temptation  to  make  the  weapons  of  carnal  warfare  the 
instruments  of  my  revenge,  so  I  scorn  to  effect  it  through 
the  means  of  Mammon. 

Wishing,  madam,  that  the  Lord  may  grant  you  every 
119 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

blessing,  and,  in  especial,  that  which  is  over  all  others, 
namely,  the  true  knowledge  of  His  way, 
I  remain, 
Your  devoted  servant  to  command, 

Ralph  Bridgenorth. 

Written  at  Moultrassie  Hall  this  tenth  day 
of  July  1660. 

So  soon  as  Lady  Peveril  had  perused  this  long  and 
singular  homily,  in  which  it  seemed  to  her  that  her  neigh- 
bour showed  more  spirit  of  religious  fanaticism  than  she 
could  have  supposed  him  possessed  of,  she  looked  up  and 
beheld  Ellesmere  with  a  countenance  in  which  mortifi- 
cation and  an  affected  air  of  contempt  seemed  to  strug- 
gle together,  who,  tired  with  watching  the  expression  of 
her  mistress's  countenance,  applied  for  confirmation  of 
her  suspicions  in  plain  terms. 

*I  suppose,  madam,'  said  the  waiting-woman,  'the 
fanatic  fool  intends  to  marry  the  wench?  They  say  he 
goes  to  shift  the  country.  Truly,  it 's  time,  indeed ;  for, 
besides  that  the  whole  neighbourhood  would  laugh  him 
to  scorn,  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  Lance  Outram,  the 
keeper,  gave  him  a  buck's  head  to  bear;  for  that  is  all  in 
the  way  of  his  oflSce.' 

'There  is  no  great  occasion  for  your  spite  at  present, 
Ellesmere,'  replied  her  lady.  '  My  letter  says  nothing  of 
marriage;  but  it  would  appear  that  Master  Bridgenorth, 
being  to  leave  this  country,  has  engaged  Deborah  to 
take  care  of  his  child ;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  heartily  glad 
of  it,  for  the  infant's  sake.' 

'And  I  am  glad  of  it  for  my  own, 'said  Ellesmere;  'and, 
indeed,  for  the  sake  of  the  whole  house.  And  your  lady- 

120 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ship  thinks  she  is  not  like  to  be  married  to  him?  Troth, 
I  could  never  see  how  he  should  be  such  an  idiot;  but 
perhaps  she  is  going  to  do  worse,  for  she  speaks  here  of 
coming  to  high  preferment,  and  that  scarce  comes  by 
honest  servitude  nowadays;  then  she  writes  me  about 
sending  her  things,  as  if  I  were  mistress  of  the  wardrobe 
to  her  ladyship  —  ay,  and  recommends  Master  Julian 
to  the  care  of  my  age  and  experience,  forsooth,  as  if  she 
needed  to  recommend  the  dear  little  jewel  to  me;  and 
then,  to  speak  of  my  age.  But  I  will  bundle  away  her 
rags  to  the  hall,  with  a  witness!' 

*Do  it  with  all  civility,'  said  the  lady,  'and  let  Whit- 
aker  send  her  the  wages  for  which  she  has  served,  and  a 
broad-piece  over  and  above ;  for,  though  a  light-headed 
young  woman,  she  was  kind  to  the  children.' 

*I  know  who  is  kind  to  their  servants,  madam,  and 
would  spoil  the  best  ever  pinned  a  gown.' 

'I  spoiled  a  good  one,  Ellesmere,  when  I  spoiled  thee,' 
said  the  lady;  '  but  tell  Mrs.  Deborah  to  kiss  the  little 
Alice  for  me,  and  to  offer  my  good  wishes  to  Major 
Bridgenorth,  for  his  temporal  and  future  happiness.' 

She  permitted  no  observation  or  reply,  but  dismissed 
her  attendant,  without  entering  into  further  particulars. 

When  Ellesmere  had  withdrawn.  Lady  Peveril  began 
to  reflect,  with  much  feeling  of  compassion,  on  the  letter 
of  Major  Bridgenorth  —  a  person  in  whom  there  were 
certainly  many  excellent  qualities,  but  whom  a  series  of 
domestic  misfortunes,  and  the  increasing  gloom  of  a  sin- 
cere, yet  stern,  feeling  of  devotion,  rendered  lonely  and 
unhappy;  and  she  had  more  than  one  anxious  thought 
for  the  happiness  of  the  little  Alice,  brought  up,  as  she 
was  likely  to  be,  under  such  a  father.    Still  the  removal 

121 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  Bridgenorth  was,  on  the  whole,  a  desirable  event;  for 
while  he  remained  at  the  hall,  it  was  but  too  likely  that 
some  accidental  collision  with  Sir  Geoffrey  might  give 
rise  to  a  rencontre  betwixt  them,  more  fatal  than  the 
last  had  been. 

In  the  meanwhile,  she  could  not  help  expressing  to  Dr. 
Dummerar  her  surprise  and  sorrow  that  all  which  she 
had  done  and  attempted  to  stablish  peace  and  unanim- 
ity betwixt  the  contending  factions  had  been  perversely 
fated  to  turn  out  the  very  reverse  of  what  she  had  aimed 
at. 

'But  for  my  unhappy  invitation,'  she  said,  'Bridge- 
north  would  not  have  been  at  the  castle  on  the  morning 
which  succeeded  the  feast,  would  not  have  seen  the 
countess,  and  would  not  have  incurred  the  resentment 
and  opposition  of  my  husband.  And  but  for  the  King's 
return,  an  event  which  was  so  anxiously  expected  as  the 
termination  of  all  our  calamities,  neither  the  noble  lady 
nor  ourselves  had  been  engaged  in  this  new  path  of  diffi- 
culty and  danger.' 

'Honoured  madam,'  said  Dr.  Dummerar,  'were  the 
affairs  of  this  world  to  be  guided  implicitly  by  human 
wisdom,  or  were  they  uniformly  to  fall  out  according  to 
the  conjectures  of  human  foresight,  events  would  no 
longer  be  under  the  domination  of  that  time  and  chance 
which  happen  unto  all  men,  since  we  should,  in  the  one 
case,  work  out  our  own  purposes  to  a  certainty,  by  our 
own  skill,  and,  in  the  other,  regulate  our  conduct  accord- 
ing to  the  \aews  of  unerring  prescience.  But  man  is, 
while  in  this  vale  of  tears,  like  an  uninstructed  bowler, 
so  to  speak,  who  thinks  to  attain  the  jack,  by  delivering 
his  bowl  straight  forward  upon  it,  being  ignorant  that 

122 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

there  is  a  concealed  bias  within  the  spheroid,  which  will 
make  it,  in  all  probability,  swerve  away  and  lose  the 
cast.' 

Having  spoken  this  with  a  sententious  air,  the 
doctor  took  his  shovel-shaped  hat,  and  went  down 
to  the  castle  green  to  conclude  a  match  of  bowls 
with  Whitaker,  which  had  probably  suggested  this 
notable  illustration  of  the  uncertain  course  of  human 
events. 

Two  days  afterwards,  Sir  Geoffrey  arrived.  He  had 
waited  at  Vale  Royal  till  he  heard  of  the  countess's  being 
safely  embarked  for  Man,  and  then  had  posted  home- 
ward to  his  castle  and  Dame  Margaret.  On  his  way,  he 
learned  from  some  of  his  attendants  the  mode  in  which 
his  lady  had  conducted  the  entertainment  which  she  had 
given  to  the  neighbourhood  at  his  order;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  great  deference  he  usually  showed  in  cases 
where  Lady  Peverilwas  concerned,  he  heard  of  her  liber- 
ality towards  the  Presbyterian  party  with  great  indig- 
nation. 

'I  could  have  admitted  Bridgenorth,'  he  said,  'for  he 
always  bore  him  in  neighbourly  and  kindly  fashion  till 
this  last  career  —  I  could  have  endured  him,  so  he  would 
have  drunk  the  King's  health,  Hke  a  true  man;  but  to 
bring  that  snufHing  scoundrel  Solsgrace,  with  all  his 
beggarly,  long-eared  congregation,  to  hold  a  conventicle 
in  my  father's  house  —  to  let  them  domineer  it  as  they 
listed  —  why,  I  would  not  have  permitted  them  such 
liberty  when  they  held  their  head  the  highest!  They 
never,  in  the  worst  of  times,  found  any  way  into  Mar- 
tindale  Castle  but  what  Noll's  cannon  made  for  them; 
and,  that  they  should  come  and  cant  there,  when  good 

123 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

King  Charles  is  returned,  —  by  my  hand,  Dame  Mar- 
garet shall  hear  of  it!' 

But,  notwithstanding  these  ireful  resolutions,  resent- 
ment altogether  subsided  in  the  honest  knight's  breast 
when  he  saw  the  fair  features  of  his  lady  hghtened  with 
affectionate  joy  at  his  return  in  safety.  As  he  took  her  in 
his  arms  and  kissed  her,  he  forgave  her  ere  he  mentioned 
her  offence. 

'Thou  hast  played  the  knave  with  me,  Meg,'  he  said, 
shaking  his  head,  and  smihng  at  the  same  time,  'and 
thou  knowest  in  what  matter ;  but  I  think  thou  art  true 
churchwoman,  and  didst  only  act  from  some  silly  wo- 
manish fancy  of  keeping  fair  with  these  roguish  Round- 
heads. But  let  me  have  no  more  of  this.  I  had  rather 
Martindale  Castle  were  again  rent  by  their  bullets  than 
receive  any  of  the  knaves  in  the  way  of  friendship. 
I  always  except  Ralph  Bridgenorth  of  the  hall,  if  he 
should  come  to  his  senses  again.' 

Lady  Peveril  was  here  under  the  necessity  of  explain- 
ing what  she  had  heard  of  Master  Bridgenorth  —  the 
disappearance  of  the  governante  with  his  daughter,  and 
placed  Bridgenorth's  letter  in  his  hand.  Sir  Geoffrey 
shook  his  head  at  first,  and  then  laughed  extremely  at 
the  idea  that  there  was  some  little  love-intrigue  between 
Bridgenorth  and  Mistress  Deborah. 

'It  is  the  true  end  of  a  dissenter,' he  said, 'to  marry 
his  own  maid-servant  or  some  other  person's.  Deborah 
is  a  good,  likely  wench,  and  on  the  merrier  side  of  thirty, 
as  I  should  think.' 

'Nay  —  nay,'  said  the  Lady  Peveril,  'you  are  as 
uncharitable  as  Ellesmere ;  I  believe  it  but  to  be  affection 
to  his  child.' 

124 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

^ Pshaw!  pshaw!'  answered  the  knight,  'women  are 
eternally  thinking  of  children;  but  among  men,  dame, 
many  one  caresses  the  infant  that  he  may  kiss  the  child's 
maid;  and  where 's  the  wonder  or  the  harm  either,  if 
Bridgenorth  should  marry  the  wench?  Her  father  is  a 
substantial  yeoman;  his  family  has  had  the  same  farm 
since  Bosworth  field  —  as  good  a  pedigree  as  that  of  the 
great-grandson  of  a  Chesterfield  brewer,  I  trow.  But 
let  us  hear  what  he  says  for  himself;  I  shall  spell  it 
out  if  there  is  any  roguery  in  the  letter  about  love  and 
liking,  though  it  might  escape  your  innocence,  Dame 
Margaret.' 

The  knight  of  the  Peak  began  to  peruse  the  letter 
accordingly,  but  was  much  embarrassed  by  the  pecuUar 
language  in  which  it  was  couched.  'What  he  means  by 
moving  of  candlesticks,  and  breaking  down  of  carved 
work  in  the  church,  I  cannot  guess;  unless  he  means  to 
bring  back  the  large  silver  candlesticks  which  my 
grandsire  gave  to  be  placed  on  the  altar  at  Martindale- 
Moultrassie,  and  which  his  crop-eared  friends,  Hke 
sacrilegious  villains  as  they  are,  stole  and  melted  down. 
And  in  Hke  manner,  the  only  breaking  I  know  of  was 
when  they  pulled  down  the  rails  of  the  communion- 
table, for  which  some  of  their  fingers  are  hot  enough  by 
this  time,  and  when  the  brass  ornaments  were  torn  down 
from  the  Peveril  monuments;  and  that  was  breaking 
and  removing  with  a  vengeance.  However,  dame,  the 
upshot  is,  that  poor  Bridgenorth  is  going  to  leave  the 
neighbourhood.  I  am  truly  sorry  for  it,  though  I  never 
saw  him  oftener  than  once  a  day,  and  never  spoke  to 
him  above  two  words.  But  I  see  how  it  is  —  that  little 
shake  by  the  shoulder  sticks  in  his  stomach;  and  yet, 

125 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Meg,  I  did  but  lift  him  out  of  the  saddle  as  I  might  have 
lifted  thee  into  it,  Margaret.  I  was  careful  not  to  hurt 
him ;  and  I  did  not  think  him  so  tender  in  point  of  hon- 
our as  to  mind  such  a  thing  much.  But  I  see  plainly 
where  his  sore  lies;  and  I  warrant  you  I  will  manage 
that  he  stays  at  the  hall,  and  that  you  get  back  Julian's 
little  companion.  Faith,  I  am  sorry  myself  at  the 
thought  of  losing  the  baby,  and  of  having  to  choose 
another  ride  when  it  is  not  hunting-weather  than  round 
by  the  hall,  with  a  word  at  the  window.' 

'I  should  be  very  glad.  Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  'that  you  could  come  to  a  reconcihation  with 
this  worthy  man,  for  such  I  must  hold  Master  Bridge- 
north  to  be.' 

'But  for  his  dissenting  principles,  as  good  a  neighbour 
as  ever  lived,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey. 

'But  I  scarce  see,'  continued  the  lady,  'any  possibility 
of  bringing  about  a  conclusion  so  desirable.' 

'Tush,  dame,'  answered  the  knight,  'thou  knowest 
little  of  such  matters.  I  know  the  foot  he  halts  upon, 
and  you  shall  see  him  go  as  sound  as  ever.' 

Lady  Peveril  had,  from  her  sincere  affection  and 
sound  sense,  as  good  a  right  to  claim  the  full  confidence 
of  her  husband  as  any  woman  in  Derbyshire;  and,  upon 
this  occasion,  to  confess  the  truth,  she  had  more  anxiety 
to  know  his  purpose  than  her  sense  of  their  mutual  and 
separate  duties  permitted  her  in  general  to  entertain. 
She  could  not  imagine  what  mode  of  reconciliation  with 
his  neighbour  Sir  Geoffrey  (no  very  acute  judge  of  man- 
kind or  their  pecuharities)  could  have  devised,  which 
might  be  not  disclosed  to  her;  and  she  felt  some  secret 
anxiety  lest  the  means  resorted  to  might  be  so  ill  chosen 

126 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

as  to  render  the  breach  rather  wider.  But  Sir  Geoffrey 
would  give  no  opening  for  further  inquiry.  He  had  been 
long  enough  colonel  of  a  regiment  abroad  to  value  him- 
self on  the  right  of  absolute  command  at  home;  and  to 
all  the  hints  which  his  lady's  ingenuity  could  devise  and 
throw  out,  he  only  answered,  'Patience,  Dame  Mar- 
garet —  patience.  This  is  no  case  for  thy  handling. 
Thou  shalt  know  enough  on  't  by  and  by,  dame.  Go, 
look  to  Julian.  Will  the  boy  never  have  done  crying  for 
lack  of  that  Httle  sprout  of  a  Roundhead?  But  we  will 
have  little  Alice  back  with  us  in  two  or  three  days,  and 
all  will  be  well  again.' 

As  the  good  knight  spoke  these  words,  a  post  winded 
his  horn  in  the  court,  and  a  large  packet  was  brought  in, 
addressed  to  the  worshipful  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  Justice 
of  the  Peace,  and  so  forth;  for  he  had  been  placed  in 
authority  so  soon  as  the  King's  restoration  was  put  upon 
a  settled  basis.  Upon  opening  the  packet,  which  he  did 
with  no  small  feehng  of  importance,  he  found  that  it 
contained  the  warrant  which  he  had  solicited  for  re- 
placing Doctor  Dummerar  in  the  parish,  from  which 
he  had  been  forcibly  ejected  during  the  usurpation.^ 

Few  incidents  could  have  given  more  delight  to  Sir 
Geoffrey.  He  could  forgive  a  stout,  able-bodied  sectary 
or  nonconformist,  who  enforced  his  doctrines  in  the 
field  by  downright  blows  on  the  casques  and  cuirasses  of 
himself  and  other  Cavaliers;  but  he  remembered,  with 
most  vindictive  accuracy,  the  triumphant  entrance  of 
Hugh  Peters  through  the  breach  of  his  castle;  and  for 
his  sake,  without  nicely  distinguishing  betwixt  sects  or 
their  teachers,  he  held  all  who  mounted  a  pulpit  with- 

*  See  Note  6. 
127 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

out  warrant  from  the  Church  of  England  —  perhaps 
he  might  also  in  private  except  that  of  Rome  —  to  be 
disturbers  of  the  public  tranquillity,  seducers  of  the 
congregation  from  their  lawful  preachers,  instigators  of 
the  late  Civil  War,  and  men  well  disposed  to  risk  the 
fate  of  a  new  one. 

Then,  on  the  other  hand,  besides  gratifying  his  dis- 
Hke  to  Solsgrace,  he  saw  much  satisfaction  in  the  task 
of  replacing  his  old  friend  and  associate  in  sport  and  in 
danger,  the  worthy  Doctor  Dummerar,  in  his  legitimate 
rights,  and  in  the  ease  and  comforts  of  his  vicarage.  He 
communicated  the  contents  of  the  packet,  with  great 
triumph,  to  the  lady,  who  now  perceived  the  sense  of 
the  mysterious  paragraph  in  Major  Bridgenorth's  letter 
concerning  the  removal  of  the  candlestick,  and  the 
extinction  of  Hght  and  doctrine  in  the  land.  She  pointed 
this  out  to  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade 
him  that  a  door  was  now  opened  to  reconciliation  with 
his  neighbour,  by  executing  the  commission  which  he 
had  received  in  an  easy  and  moderate  manner,  after  due 
delay,  and  with  all  respect  to  the  feelings  both  of  Sols- 
grace  and  his  congregation,  which  circumstances  ad- 
mitted of.  This,  the  lady  argued,  would  be  doing  no 
injury  whatever  to  Dr.  Dummerar  —  nay,  might  be  the 
means  of  reconciling  many  to  his  ministry,  who  might 
otherwise  be  disgusted  with  it  for  ever,  by  the  premature 
expulsion  of  a  favourite  preacher. 

There  was  much  wisdom,  as  well  as  moderation,  in 
this  advice;  and,  at  another  time,  Sir  Geoffrey  would 
have  had  sense  enough  to  have  adopted  it.  But  who  can 
act  composedly  or  prudently  in  the  hour  of  triumph? 
The  ejection  of  Mr.  Solsgrace  was  so  hastily  executed  as 

128 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  give  it  some  appearance  of  persecution ;  though,  more 
justly  considered,  it  was  the  restoring  of  his  predecessor 
to  his  legal  rights.  Solsgrace  himself  seemed  to  be  desir- 
ous to  make  his  sufferings  as  manifest  as  possible.  He 
held  out  to  the  last;  and  on  the  Sabbath  after  he 
had  received  intimation  of  his  ejection,  attempted  to 
make  his  way  to  the  pulpit  as  usual,  supported  by  Mas- 
ter Bridgenorth's  attorney,  Win-the-Fight,  and  a  few 
zealous  followers. 

Just  as  this  party  came  into  the  churchyard  on  the 
one  side,  Dr.  Dummerar,  dressed  in  full  pontificals,  in 
a  sort  of  triumphal  procession,  accompanied  by  Peveril 
of  the  Peak,  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  and  other  Cavaliers 
of  distinction,  entered  at  the  other. 

To  prevent  an  actual  struggle  in  the  church,  the  par- 
ish officers  were  sent  to  prevent  the  farther  approach 
of  the  Presbyterian  minister;  which  was  effected  with- 
out further  damage  than  a  broken  head,  inflicted  by 
Roger  Raine,  the  drunken  innkeeper  of  the  Peveril 
Arms,  upon  the  Presbyterian  attorney  of  Chesterfield. 

Unsubdued  in  spirit,  though  compelled  to  retreat  by 
superior  force,  the  undaunted  Mr.  Solsgrace  retired  to 
the  vicarage;  where,  under  some  legal  pretext  which  had 
been  started  by  Mr.  Win-the-Fight  (in  that  day  un- 
aptly named),  he  attempted  to  maintain  himself  — 
bolted  gates,  barred  windows,  and,  as  report  said 
(though  falsely),  made  provision  of  firearms  to  resist 
the  ofiicers.  A  scene  of  clamour  and  scandal  accordingly 
took  place,  which  being  reported  to  Sir  Geoffrey,  he 
came  in  person,  with  some  of  his  attendants  carrying 
arms,  forced  the  outer  gate  and  inner  doors  of  the  house, 
and,  proceeding  to  the  study,  found  no  other  garrison 
«7  129 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

save  the  Presbyterian  parson,  with  the  attorney,  who 
gave  up  possession  of  the  premises,  after  making  protes- 
tation against  the  violence  that  had  been  used. 

The  rabble  of  the  village  being  by  this  time  all  in 
motion,  Sir  Geoffrey,  both  in  prudence  and  in  good- 
nature, saw  the  propriety  of  escorting  his  prisoners,  for 
so  they  might  be  termed,  safely  through  the  tumult; 
and  accordingly  conveyed  them  in  person,  through  much 
noise  and  clamour,  as  far  as  the  avenue  of  Moultrassie 
Hall,  which  they  chose  for  the  place  of  their  retreat. 

But  the  absence  of  Sir  Geoffrey  gave  the  rein  to  some 
disorders,  which,  if  present,  he  would  assuredly  have 
restrained.  Some  of  the  minister's  books  were  torn  and 
flung  about  as  treasonable  and  seditious  trash,  by  the 
zealous  parish  officers  or  their  assistants.  A  quantity 
of  his  ale  was  drunk  up  in  healths  to  the  King  and 
Peveril  of  the  Peak.  And  finally,  the  boys,  who  bore  the 
ex-parson  no  good-will  for  his  tyrannical  interference 
with  their  games  at  skittles,  football,  and  so  forth,  and, 
moreover,  remembered  the  unmerciful  length  of  his 
sermons,  dressed  up  an  effigy  with  his  Geneva  gown  and 
band  and  his  steeple-crowned  hat,  which  they  paraded 
through  the  village,  and  burnt  on  the  spot  whilom  occu- 
pied by  a  stately  Maypole,  which  Solsgrace  had  for- 
merly hewed  down  with  his  own  reverend  hands. 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  vexed  at  all  this,  and  sent  to  Mr. 
Solsgrace,  offering  satisfaction  for  the  goods  which  he 
had  lost;  but  the  Calvinistical  divine  replied,  'From  a 
thread  to  a  shoe-latchet,  I  will  not  take  anything  that  is 
thine.  Let  the  shame  of  the  work  of  thy  hands  abide 
with  thee.' 

Considerable  scandal,  indeed,  arose  against  Sir 
130 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Geoffrey  Peveril,  as  having  proceeded  with  indecent 
severity  and  haste  upon  this  occasion ;  and  rumour  took 
care  to  make  the  usual  additions  to  the  reality.  It  was 
currently  reported  that  the  desperate  Cavalier,  Peveril 
of  the  Peak,  had  fallen  on  a  Presbyterian  congregation, 
while  engaged  in  the  peaceable  exercise  of  religion,  with 
a  band  of  armed  men,  had  slain  some,  desperately 
wounded  many  more,  and  finally  pursued  the  preacher 
to  his  vicarage,  which  he  burnt  to  the  ground.  Some 
alleged  the  clergyman  had  perished  in  the  flames;  and 
the  most  mitigated  report  bore,  that  he  had  only  been 
able  to  escape  by  disposing  his  gown,  cap,  and  band 
near  a  window,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  deceive  them  with 
the  idea  of  his  person  being  still  surrounded  by  flames, 
while  he  himself  fled  by  the  back  part  of  the  house. 
And  although  few  people  beHeved  in  the  extent  of  the 
atrocities  thus  imputed  to  our  honest  Cavalier,  yet  still 
enough  of  obloquy  attached  to  him  to  infer  very  serious 
consequences,  as  the  reader  will  learn  at  a  future  period 
of  our  history. 


CHAPTER  IX 


Bessus.  T  is  a  challenge,  sir,  is  it  not? 
Gentleman.  'T  is  an  inviting  to  the  field. 

King  and  No  King. 


For  a  day  or  two  after  this  forcible  expulsion  from 
the  vicarage,  Mr.  Solsgrace  continued  his  residence  at 
Moultrassie  Hall,  where  the  natural  melancholy  attend- 
ant on  his  situation  added  to  the  gloom  of  the  owner  of 
the  mansion.  In  the  morning,  the  ejected  divine  made 
excursions  to  different  families  in  the  neighbourhood,  to 
whom  his  ministry  had  been  acceptable  in  the  days  of 
his  prosperity,  and  from  whose  grateful  recollections  of 
that  period  he  now  found  sympathy  and  consolation. 
He  did  not  require  to  be  condoled  with  because  he  was 
deprived  of  an  easy  and  competent  maintenance,  and 
thrust  out  upon  the  common  of  life,  after  he  had  reason 
to  suppose  he  would  be  no  longer  liable  to  such  muta- 
tions of  fortune.  The  piety  of  Mr.  Solsgrace  was  sincere; 
and  if  he  had  many  of  the  uncharitable  prejudices 
against  other  sects  which  polemical  controversy  had 
generated,  and  the  Civil  War  brought  to  a  head,  he  had 
also  that  deep  sense  of  duty  by  which  enthusiasm  is  so 
often  dignified,  and  held  his  very  life  httle,  if  called 
upon  to  lay  it  down  in  attestation  of  the  doctrines  in 
which  he  believed.  But  he  was  soon  to  prepare  for 
leaving  the  district  which  Heaven,  he  conceived,  had 
assigned  to  him  as  his  corner  of  the  vineyard ;  he  was  to 
abandon  his  flock  to  the  wolf;  was  to  forsake  those  with 

132 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

whom  he  had  held  sweet  counsel  in  religious  communion; 
was  to  leave  the  recently  converted  to  relapse  into  false 
doctrines,  and  forsake  the  wavering,  whom  his  contin- 
ued cares  might  have  directed  into  the  right  path  — 
these  were  of  themselves  deep  causes  of  sorrow,  and  were 
aggravated,  doubtless,  by  those  natural  feelings  with 
which  all  men,  especially  those  whose  duties  or  habits 
have  confined  them  to  a  limited  circle,  regard  the  sepa- 
ration from  wonted  scenes  and  their  accustomed  haunts 
of  solitary  musing  or  social  intercourse. 

There  was,  indeed,  a  plan  of  placing  Mr.  Solsgrace  at 
the  head  of  a  Nonconforming  congregation  in  his  present 
parish,  which  his  followers  would  have  readily  consented 
to  endow  with  a  sufficient  revenue.  But  although  the 
Act  for  universal  conformity  was  not  yet  passed,  such  a 
measure  was  understood  to  be  impending,  and  there 
existed  a  general  opinion  among  the  Presbyterians  that 
in  no  hands  was  it  likely  to  be  more  strictly  enforced 
than  in  those  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak.  Solsgrace  himself 
considered  not  only  his  personal  danger  as  being  con- 
siderable —  for,  assuming  perhaps  more  consequence 
than  was  actually  attached  to  him  or  his  productions, 
he  conceived  the  honest  knight  to  be  his  mortal  and 
determined  enemy  —  but  he  also  conceived  that  he 
should  serve  the  cause  of  his  church  by  absenting  him- 
self from  Derbyshire. 

'Less  known  pastors,'  he  said,  'though  perhaps  more 
worthy  of  the  name,  may  be  permitted  to  assemble  the 
scattered  flocks  in  caverns  or  in  secret  wilds,  and  to 
them  shall  the  gleaning  of  the  grapes  of  Ephraim  be 
better  than  the  vintage  of  Abiezer.  But  I,  that  have  so 
often  carried  the  banner  forth  against  the  mighty  —  I, 

133 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

whose  tongue  hath  testified,  morning  and  evening,  like 
the  watchman  upon  the  tower,  against  Popery,  Prelacy, 
and  the  tyrant  of  the  Peak  —  for  me  to  abide  here  were 
but  to  bring  the  sword  of  bloody  vengeance  amongst 
you,  that  the  shepherd  might  be  smitten  and  the  sheep 
scattered.  The  shedders  of  blood  have  already  assailed 
me,  even  within  that  ground  which  they  themselves  call 
consecrated;  and  yourselves  have  seen  the  scalp  of  the 
righteous  broken,  as  he  defended  my  cause.  Therefore, 
I  will  put  on  my  sandals  and  gird  my  loins,  and  depart 
to  a  far  country,  and  there  do  as  my  duty  shall  call 
upon  me,  whether  it  be  to  act  or  to  suffer,  to  bear  testi- 
mony at  the  stake  or  in  the  pulpit.' 

Such  were  the  sentiments  which  Mr.  Solsgrace  ex- 
pressed to  his  desponding  friends,  and  which  he  expati- 
ated upon  at  more  length  with  Major  Bridgenorth ;  not 
failing,  with  friendly  zeal,  to  rebuke  the  haste  which  the 
latter  had  shown  to  thrust  out  the  hand  of  fellowship 
to  the  Amalekite  woman,  whereby  he  reminded  him, 
*He  had  been  rendered  her  slave  and  bondsman  for  a 
season,  Hke  Samson,  betrayed  by  Delilah,  and  might 
have  remained  longer  in  the  house  of  Dagon,  had  not 
Heaven  pointed  to  him  a  way  out  of  the  snare.  Also,  it 
sprung  originally  from  the  major's  going  up  to  feast  in 
the  high  place  of  Baal,  that  he  who  was  the  champion 
of  the  truth  was  stricken  down  and  put  to  shame  by  the 
enemy,  even  in  the  presence  of  the  host.' 

These  objurgations  seeming  to  give  some  offence  to 
Major  Bridgenorth,  who  liked  no  better  than  any  other 
man  to  hear  of  his  own  mishaps,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
have  them  imputed  to  his  own  misconduct,  the  worthy 
divine  proceeded  to  take  shame  to  himself  for  his  own 

134 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

sinful  compliance  in  that  matter;  for  to  the  vengeance 
justly  due  for  that  unhappy  dinner  at  Martindale 
Castle,  'which  was/  he  said,  'a  crying  of  peace  when 
there  was  no  peace,  and  a  dwelHng  in  the  tents  of  sin,' 
he  imputed  his  ejection  from  his  living,  with  the  destruc- 
tion of  some  of  his  most  pithy  and  highly  prized  volumes 
of  divinity,  with  the  loss  of  his  cap,  gown,  and  band, 
and  a  double  hogshead  of  choice  Derby  ale. 

The  mind  of  Major  Bridgenorth  was  strongly  tinged 
with  devotional  feeling,  which  his  late  misfortunes  had 
rendered  more  deep  and  solemn;  and  it  is  therefore  no 
wonder  that,  when  he  heard  these  arguments  urged  again 
and  again  by  a  pastor  whom  he  so  much  respected,  and 
who  was  now  a  confessor  in  the  cause  of  their  joint  faith, 
he  began  to  look  back  with  disapproval  on  his  own  con- 
duct, and  to  suspect  that  he  had  permitted  himself  to  be 
seduced  by  gratitude  towards  Lady  Peveril,  and  by  her 
special  arguments  in  favour  of  a  mutual  and  tolerating 
HberaHty  of  sentiments,  into  an  action  which  had  a  ten- 
dency to  compromise  his  religious  and  pohtical  prin- 
ciples. 

One  morning,  as  Major  Bridgenorth  had  wearied  him- 
self with  several  details  respecting  the  arrangement  of 
his  affairs,  he  was  reposing  in  the  leathern  easy-chair, 
beside  the  latticed  window  —  a  posture  which,  by  natu- 
ral association,  recalled  to  him  the  memory  of  former 
times,  and  the  feelings  with  which  he  was  wont  to  expect 
the  recurring  visit  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  brought  him 
news  of  his  child's  welfare.  'Surely,'  he  said,  thinking, 
as  it  were,  aloud,  'there  was  no  sin  in  the  kindness  with 
which  I  then  regarded  that  man.' 

Solsgrace,  who  was  in  the  apartment,  and  guessed 

135 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

what  passed  through  his  friend's  mind,  acquainted  as  he 
was  with  every  point  of  his  history,  replied  —  '  When 
God  caused  Elijah  to  be  fed  by  ravens,  while  hiding  at 
the  brook  Cherith,  we  hear  not  of  his  fondling  the  un- 
clean birds,  whom,  contrary  to  their  ravening  nature,  a 
miracle  compelled  to  minister  to  him.' 

*It  may  be  so,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'yet  the  flap  of 
their  wings  must  have  been  gracious  in  the  ear  of  the 
famished  prophet,  like  the  tread  of  his  horse  in  mine. 
The  ravens,  doubtless,  resumed  their  nature  when  the 
season  was  passed,  and  even  so  it  has  fared  with  him. 
Hark ! '  he  exclaimed,  starting,  '  I  hear  his  horse's  hoof- 
tramp  even  now.' 

It  was  seldom  that  the  echoes  of  that  silent  house  and 
courtyard  were  awakened  by  the  trampKng  of  horses, 
but  such  was  now  the  case. 

Both  Bridgenorth  and  Solsgrace  were  surprised  at  the 
sound,  and  even  disposed  to  anticipate  some  further  op- 
pression on  the  part  of  government,  when  the  major's 
old  servant  introduced,  with  little  ceremony  (for  his 
manners  were  nearly  as  plain  as  his  master's),  a  tall 
gentleman  on  the  further  side  of  middle  Ufe,  whose  vest 
and  cloak,  long  hair,  slouched  hat,  and  drooping  feather, 
announced  him  as  a  Cavalier.  He  bowed  formally,  but 
courteously,  to  both  gentlemen,  and  said,  that  he  was 
'Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  charged  with  an  especial  mes- 
sage to  Master  Ralph  Bridgenorth,  of  Moultrassie  Hall, 
by  his  honourable  friend  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
and  that  he  requested  to  know  whether  Master  Bridge- 
north  would  be  pleased  to  receive  his  acquittal  of  com- 
mission here  or  elsewhere.' 

'Anything  which  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  can  have  to  say 
136 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  me/  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  'may  be  told  instantly, 
and  before  my  friend,  from  whom  I  have  no  secrets.' 

'  The  presence  of  any  other  friend  were,  instead  of 
being  objectionable,  the  thing  in  the  world  most  to  be 
desired,'  said  Sir  Jasper,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
and  looking  at  Mr.  Solsgrace;  'but  this  gentleman 
seems  to  be  a  sort  of  clergyman/ 

*  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  secrets,' answered  Bridge- 
north,  '  nor  do  I  desire  to  have  any,  in  which  a  clergyman 
is  an  unfitting  confidant.' 

'At  your  pleasure,'  replied  Sir  Jasper.  'The  confi- 
dence, for  aught  I  know,  may  be  well  enough  chosen, 
for  your  divines  —  always  under  your  favour  —  have 
proved  no  enemies  to  such  matters  as  I  am  to  treat  with 
you  upon.' 

'Proceed,  sir,'  answered  Mr.  Bridgenorth,  gravely; 
'and  I  pray  you  to  be  seated,  unless  it  is  rather  your 
pleasure  to  stand.' 

'  I  must,  in  the  first  place,  deliver  myself  of  my  small 
commission,'  answered  Sir  Jasper,  drawing  himself  up; 
'and  it  will  be  after  I  have  seen  the  reception  thereof 
that  I  shall  know  whether  I  am  or  am  not  to  sit  down 
at  Moultrassie  Hall.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  Master 
Bridgenorth,  hath  carefully  considered  with  himself  the 
unhappy  circumstances  which  at  present  separate  you  as 
neighbours.  And  he  remembers  many  passages  in  former 
times  —  I  speak  his  very  words  —  which  incline  him  to 
do  all  that  can  possibly  consist  with  his  honour  to  wipe 
out  unkindness  between  you ;  and  for  this  desirable  ob- 
ject he  is  willing  to  condescend  in  a  degree  which,  as  you 
could  not  have  expected,  it  will  no  doubt  give  you  great 
pleasure  to  learn.' 

137 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Allow  me  to  say,  Sir  Jasper,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'that 
this  is  unnecessary.  I  have  made  no  complaints  of  Sir 
Geoffrey;  I  have  required  no  submission  from  him.  I  am 
about  to  leave  this  country;  and  what  affairs  we  may 
have  together  can  be  as  well  settled  by  others  as  by 
ourselves.' 

'  In  a  word,'  said  the  divine, '  the  worthy  Major  Bridge- 
north  hath  had  enough  of  trafficking  with  the  ungodly, 
and  will  no  longer,  on  any  terms,  consort  with  them.' 

'  Gentlemen  both,'  said  Sir  Jasper,  with  imperturbable 
politeness,  bowing,  'you  greatly  mistake  the  tenor  of 
my  commission,  which  you  will  do  as  well  to  hear  out 
before  making  any  reply  to  it.  I  think.  Master  Bridge- 
north,  you  cannot  but  remember  your  letter  to  the  Lady 
Peveril,  of  which  I  have  here  a  rough  copy,  in  which  you 
complain  of  the  hard  measure  which  you  have  received 
at  Sir  Geoffrey's  hand,  and  in  particular  when  he  pulled 
you  from  your  horse  at  or  near  Hartley  Nick.  Now,  Sir 
Geoffrey  thinks  so  well  of  you  as  to  believe  that,  were  it 
not  for  the  wide  difference  betwixt  his  descent  and  rank 
and  your  own,  you  would  have  sought  to  bring  this  mat- 
ter to  a  gentlemanhke  arbitrement,  as  the  only  mode 
whereby  your  stain  may  be  honourably  wiped  away. 
Wherefore  in  this  slight  note,  he  gives  you,  in  his  gener- 
osity, the  offer  of  what  you,  in  your  modesty,  for  to  no- 
thing else  does  he  impute  your  acquiescence,  have  de- 
clined to  demand  of  him.  And  withal,  I  bring  you  the 
measure  of  his  weapon ;  and  when  you  have  accepted  the 
cartel  which  I  now  offer  you,  I  shall  be  ready  to  settle  the 
time,  place,  and  other  circumstances  of  your  meeting.' 

'And  I,'  said  Solsgrace,  with  a  solemn  voice,  'should 
the  Author  of  Evil  tempt  my  friend  to  accept  of  so 

138 


i 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

bloodthirsty  a  proposal,  would  be  the  first  to  pronounce 
against  him  sentence  of  the  greater  excommunication.' 

*  It  is  not  you  whom  I  address,  reverend  sir/ replied  the 
envoy;  'your  interest,  not  unnaturally,  may  determine 
you  to  be  more  anxious  about  your  patron's  life  than 
about  his  honour.  I  must  know  from  himself  to  which 
he  is  disposed  to  give  the  preference.' 

So  saying,  and  with  a  graceful  bow,  he  again  tendered 
the  challenge  to  Major  Bridgenorth.  There  was  obvi- 
ously a  struggle  in  that  gentleman's  bosom  between  the 
suggestions  of  human  honour  and  those  of  religious  prin- 
ciple; but  the  latter  prevailed.  He  calmly  waived  re- 
ceiving the  paper  which  Sir  Jasper  offered  to  him,  and 
spoke  to  the  following  purpose :  —  'It  may  not  be  known 
to  you.  Sir  Jasper,  that,  since  the  general  pouring  out  of 
Christian  light  upon  this  kingdom,  many  solid  men  have 
been  led  to  doubt  whether  the  shedding  human  blood  by 
the  hand  of  a  fellow-creature  be  in  any  respect  justi- 
fiable. And  although  this  rule  appears  to  me  to  be 
scarcely  applicable  to  our  state  in  this  stage  of  trial, 
seeing  that  such  non-resistance,  if  general,  would  sur- 
render our  civil  and  religious  rights  into  the  hands  of 
whatsoever  daring  tyrants  might  usurp  the  same;  yet 
I  am,  and  have  been,  inclined  to  limit  the  use  of  carnal 
arms  to  the  case  of  necessary  self-defence,  whether  such 
regards  our  own  person  or  the  protection  of  our  country 
against  invasion;  or  of  our  rights  of  property,  and  the 
freedom  of  our  laws  and  of  our  conscience,  against  usurp- 
ing power.  And  as  I  have  never  shown  myself  unwilling 
to  draw  my  sword  in  any  of  the  latter  causes,  so  you  shall 
excuse  my  suffering  it  now  to  remain  in  the  scabbard, 
when,  having  sustained  a  grievous  injury,  the  man  who 

139 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

inflicted  it  summons  me  to  combat,  either  upon  an  idle 
punctilio  or,  as  is  more  likely,  in  mere  bravado.' 

*I  have  heard  you  with  patience,'  said  Sir  Jasper; 
'and  now,  Master  Bridgenorth,  take  it  not  amiss  if  I 
beseech  you  to  bethink  yourself  better  on  this  matter. 
I  vow  to  Heaven,  sir,  that  your  honour  lies  a-bleeding; 
and  that  in  condescending  to  afford  you  this  fair  meeting, 
and  thereby  giving  you  some  chance  to  stop  its  wounds, 
Sir  Geoffrey  has  been  moved  by  a  tender  sense  of  your 
condition,  and  an  earnest  wish  to  redeem  your  dis- 
honour. And  it  will  be  but  the  crossing  of  your  blade 
with  his  honoured  sword  for  the  space  of  some  few  min- 
utes, and  you  will  either  live  or  die  a  noble  and  honoured 
gentleman;  besides  that  the  knight's  exquisite  skill  of 
fence  may  enable  him,  as  his  good-nature  will  incline 
him,  to  disarm  you  with  some  flesh  wound,  Httle  to  the 
damage  of  your  person,  and  greatly  to  the  benefit  of 
your  reputation.' 

'The  tender  mercies  of  the  wicked,'  said  Master  Sols- 
grace,  emphatically,  by  way  of  commenting  on  this 
speech,  which  Sir  Jasper  had  uttered  very  pathetically, 
'are  cruel.' 

'I  pray  to  have  no  further  interruption  from  your 
reverence,'  said  Sir  Jasper;  'especially  as  I  think  this 
affair  very  little  concerns  you;  and  I  entreat  that  you 
permit  me  to  discharge  myself  regularly  of  my  commis- 
sion from  my  worthy  friend.' 

So  saying,  he  took  his  sheathed  rapier  from  his  belt, 
and  passing  the  point  through  the  silk  thread  which  se- 
cured the  letter,  he  once  more,  and  literally  at  sword- 
point,  gracefully  tendered  it  to  Major  Bridgenorth, 
who  again  waived  it  aside,  though  colouring  deeply  at 

140 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  same  time,  as  if  he  was  putting  a  marked  constraint 
upon  himself,  drew  back,  and  made  Sir  Jasper  Cran- 
bourne  a  deep  bow. 

'Since  it  is  to  be  thus/  said  Sir  Jasper,  *  I  must  myself 
do  violence  to  the  seal  of  Sir  Geoffrey's  letter,  and  read 
it  to  you,  that  I  may  fully  acquit  myself  of  the  charge 
entrusted  to  me,  and  make  you.  Master  Bridgenorth, 
equally  aware  of  the  generous  intentions  of  Sir  Geoffrey 
on  your  behalf.' 

*If,'  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  'the  contents  of  the 
letter  be  to  no  other  purpose  than  you  have  intimated, 
methinks  further  ceremony  is  unnecessary  on  this  occa- 
sion, as  I  have  already  taken  my  course.' 

'Nevertheless,'  said  Sir  Jasper,  breaking  open  the 
letter, '  it  is  fitting  that  I  read  to  you  the  letter  of  my  wor- 
shipful friend.'   And  he  read  accordingly  as  follows:  — 

For  the  worthy  hands  of  Ralph  Bridgenorth,  Esquire, 

of  Moultrassie  Hall  —  These : 
By  the  honoured  conveyance  of  the  Worshipful  Sir 
Jasper  Cranbourne,  Knight,  of  Long  MalUngton. 

Master  Bridgenorth  — 

We  have  been  given  to  understand  by  your  letter  to 
our  loving  wife.  Dame  Margaret  Peveril,  that  you  hold 
hard  construction  of  certain  passages  betwixt  you  and  I, 
of  a  late  date,  as  if  your  honour  should  have  been,  in 
some  sort,  prejudiced  by  what  then  took  place.  And  al- 
though you  have  not  thought  it  fit  to  have  direct  re- 
course to  me,  to  request  such  satisfaction  as  is  due  from 
one  gentleman  of  condition  to  another,  yet  I  am  fully 
minded  that  this  proceeds  only  from  modesty,  arising 

141 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

out  of  the  distinction  of  our  degree,  and  from  no  lack  of 
that  courage  which  you  have  heretofore  displayed,  I 
would  I  could  say  in  a  good  cause.  Wherefore  I  am  pur- 
posed to  give  you,  by  my  friend  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne, 
a  meeting,  for  the  sake  of  doing  that  which  doubtless 
you  entirely  long  for.  Sir  Jasper  will  deliver  you  the 
length  of  my  weapon,  and  appoint  circumstances  and 
an  hour  for  our  meeting;  which,  whether  early  or  late, 
on  foot  or  horseback,  with  rapier  or  backsword,  I  refer 
to  yourself,  with  all  the  other  privileges  of  a  challenged 
person;  only  desiring  that,  if  you  decline  to  match  my 
weapon,  you  will  send  me  forthwith  the  length  and 
breadth  of  your  own.  And  nothing  doubting  that  the 
issue  of  this  meeting  must  needs  be  to  end,  in  one  way 
or  other,  all  unkindness  betwixt  two  near  neighbours, 
I  remain, 
Your  humble  servant  to  command, 

Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

Given  from  my  poor  house  of  Martindale 

Castle,  this  same of sixteen 

himdred  and  sixty. 

'Bear  back  my  respects  to  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,'  said 
Major  Bridgenorth.  'According  to  his  hght,  his  mean- 
ing may  be  fair  towards  me;  but  tell  him  that  our  quar- 
rel had  its  rise  in  his  own  wilful  aggression  towards  me ; 
and  that,  though  I  wish  to  be  in  charity  with  all  man- 
kind, I  am  not  so  wedded  to  his  friendship  as  to  break 
the  laws  of  God,  and  run  the  risk  of  suffering  or  commit- 
ting murder,  in  order  to  regain  it.  And  for  you,  sir,  me- 
thinks  your  advanced  years  and  past  misfortunes  might 
teach  you  the  folly  of  coming  on  such  idle  errands.' 

142 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'I  shall  do  your  message,  Master  Ralph  Bridgenorth/ 
said  Sir  Jasper ; '  and  shall  then  endeavour  to  forget  your 
name,  as  a  sound  unfit  to  be  pronounced,  or  even  remem- 
bered, by  a  man  of  honour.  In  the  meanwhile,  in  return 
for  your  uncivil  advice,  be  pleased  to  accept  of  mine  — 
namely,  that  as  your  religion  prevents  your  giving  a 
gentleman  satisfaction,  it  ought  to  make  you  very  cau- 
tious of  offering  him  provocation.' 

So  saying,  and  with  a  look  of  haughty  scorn,  first  at 
the  major  and  then  at  the  divine,  the  envoy  of  Sir  Geof- 
frey put  his  hat  on  his  head,  replaced  his  rapier  in  its 
belt,  and  left  the  apartment.  In  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards the  tread  of  his  horse  died  away  at  a  considerable 
distance. 

Bridgenorth  had  held  his  hand  upon  his  brow  ever 
since  his  departure,  and  a  tear  of  anger  and  shame  was 
on  his  face  as  he  raised  it  when  the  sound  was  heard  no 
more.  *He  carries  this  answer  to  Martindale  Castle,' 
he  said.  'Men  will  hereafter  think  of  me  as  a  whipped, 
beaten,  dishonourable  fellow,  whom  every  one  may 
bafiie  and  insult  at  their  pleasure.  It  is  well  I  am  leav- 
ing the  house  of  my  father.' 

Master  Solsgrace  approached  his  friend  with  much 
sympathy,  and  grasped  him  by  the  hand.  'Noble  bro- 
ther,' he  said,  with  unwonted  kindness  of  manner, 
*  though  a  man  of  peace,  I  can  judge  what  this  sacrifice 
hath  cost  to  thy  manly  spirit.  But  God  will  not  have 
from  us  an  imperfect  obedience.  We  must  not,  like 
Ananias  and  Sapphira,  reserve  behind  some  darhng  lust, 
some  favourite  sin,  while  we  pretend  to  make  sacrifice  of 
our  worldly  affections.  What  avails  it  to  say  that  we 
have  but  secreted  a  little  matter,  if  the  sUghtest  remnant 

143 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  the  accursed  thing  remain  hidden  in  our  tent?  Would 
it  be  a  defence  in  thy  prayers  to  say,  "  I  have  not  mur- 
dered this  man  for  the  lucre  of  gain,  like  a  robber;  nor 
for  the  acquisition  of  power,  like  a  tyrant;  nor  for  the 
gratification  of  revenge,  like  a  darkened  savage ;  but  be- 
cause the  imperious  voice  of  worldly  honour  said,  *  Go 
forth  —  kill  or  be  killed  —  is  it  not  I  that  have  sent 
thee?'"  Bethink  thee,  my  worthy  friend,  how  thou 
couldst  frame  such  a  vindication  in  thy  prayers;  and  if 
thou  art  forced  to  tremble  at  the  blasphemy  of  such  an 
excuse,  remember  in  thy  prayers  the  thanks  due  to  Hea- 
ven, which  enabled  thee  to  resist  the  strong  tempta- 
tion.' 

'Reverend  and  dear  friend,'  answered  Bridgenorth, 
*I  feel  that  you  speak  the  truth.  Bitterer  indeed,  and 
harder,  to  the  old  Adam  is  the  text  which  ordains  him  to 
suffer  shame  than  that  which  bids  him  to  do  valiantly 
for  the  truth.  But  happy  am  I  that  my  path  through 
the  wilderness  of  this  world  will,  for  some  space  at  least, 
be  along  with  one  whose  zeal  and  friendship  are  so  active 
to  support  me  when  I  am  fainting  in  the  way.' 

While  the  inhabitants  of  Moultrassie  Hall  thus  com- 
municated together  upon  the  purport  of  Sir  Jasper 
Cranbourne's  visit,  that  worthy  knight  greatly  excited 
the  surprise  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  by  reporting  the 
manner  in  which  his  embassy  had  been  received. 

*I  took  him  for  a  man  of  other  metal,'  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey; *nay,  I  would  have  sworn  it,  had  any  one  asked  my 
testimony.  But  there  is  no  making  a  silken  purse  out  of 
a  sow's  ear.  I  have  done  a  folly  for  him  that  I  will  never 
do  for  another;  and  that  is,  to  think  a  Presbyterian 
would  fight  without  his  preacher's  permission.    Give 

144 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

them  a  two  hours'  sermon,  and  let  them  howl  a  psalm 
to  a  tune  that  is  worse  than  the  cries  of  a  flogged  hound, 
and  the  villains  will  lay  on  Hke  threshers;  but  for  a  calm, 
cool,  gentlemanHke  turn  upon  the  sod,  hand  to  hand,  in 
a  neighbourly  way,  they  have  not  honour  enough  to  un- 
dertake it.  But  enough  of  our  crop-eared  cur  of  a  neigh- 
bour. Sir  Jasper,  you  will  tarry  with  us  to  dine,  and  see 
how  Dame  Margaret's  kitchen  smokes;  and  after  dinner 
I  will  show  you  a  long-winged  falcon  fly.  She  is  not  mine, 
but  the  countess's,  who  brought  her  from  London  on  her 
fist  almost  the  whole  way,  for  all  the  haste  she  was  in, 
and  left  her  with  me  to  keep  the  perch  for  a  season.' 

This  match  was  soon  arranged;  and  Dame  Margaret 
overheard  the  good  knight's  resentment  mutter  itself  off, 
with  those  feelings  with  which  we  listen  to  the  last 
growhng  of  the  thunderstorm,  which,  as  the  black  cloud 
sinks  behind  the  hill,  at  once  assures  us  that  there  has 
been  danger  and  that  the  peril  is  over.  She  could  not, 
indeed,  but  marvel  in  her  own  mind  at  the  singular  path 
of  reconciliation  with  his  neighbour  which  her  husband 
had,  with  so  much  confidence,  and  in  the  actual  sincerity 
of  his  good-will  to  Mr.  Bridgenorth,  attempted  to  open; 
and  she  blessed  God  internally  that  it  had  not  termin- 
ated in  bloodshed.  But  these  reflections  she  locked 
carefully  within  her  own  bosom,  well  knowing  that  they 
referred  to  subjects  in  which  the  knight  of  the  Peak 
would  neither  permit  his  sagacity  to  be  called  in  ques- 
tion nor  his  will  to  be  controlled. 

The  progress  of  the  history  hath  hitherto  been  slow; 
but  after  this  period  so  little  matter  worthy  of  mark  oc- 
curred at  Martindale  that  we  must  hurry  over  hastily 
the  transactions  of  several  years. 

«7 


CHAPTER  X 

Cleopatra.  Give  me  to  drink  mandragora, 
That  I  may  sleep  away  this  gap  of  time. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

There  passed,  as  we  hinted  at  the  conclusion  of  the  last 
chapter,  four  or  five  years  after  the  period  we  have 
dilated  upon,  the  events  of  which  scarcely  require  to  be 
discussed,  so  far  as  our  present  purpose  is  concerned,  in 
as  many  lines.  The  knight  and  his  lady  continued  to 
reside  at  their  castle  —  she,  with  prudence  and  with 
patience,  endeavouring  to  repair  the  damages  which 
the  Civil  Wars  had  inflicted  upon  their  fortune;  and 
murmuring  a  Httle  w^hen  her  plans  of  economy  were 
interrupted  by  the  liberal  hospitality  which  was  her 
husband's  principal  expense,  and  to  which  he  was 
attached,  not  only  from  his  own  English  heartiness  of 
disposition,  but  from  ideas  of  maintaining  the  dignity 
of  his  ancestry  —  no  less  remarkable,  according  to  the 
tradition  of  their  buttery,  kitchen,  and  cellar,  for  the 
fat  beeves  which  they  roasted,  and  the  mighty  ale  which 
they  brewed,  than  for  their  extensive  estates  and  the 
number  of  their  retainers. 

The  world,  however,  upon  the  whole,  went  happily 
and  easily  with  the  worthy  couple.  Sir  Geoffrey's  debt 
to  his  neighbour  Bridgenorth  continued,  it  is  true,  un- 
abated; but  he  was  the  only  creditor  upon  the  Martin- 
dale  estate,  all  others  being  paid  off.  It  would  have  been 
most  desirable  that  this  encumbrance  also  should  be 

146 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

cleared,  and  it  was  the  great  object  of  Dame  Margaret's 
economy  to  effect  the  discharge;  for  although  interest 
was  regularly  settled  with  Master  Win-the-Fight,  the 
Chesterfield  attorney,  yet  the  principal  sum,  which  was 
a  large  one,  might  be  called  for  at  an  inconvenient  time. 
The  man,  too,  was  gloomy,  important,  and  mysterious, 
and  always  seemed  as  if  he  was  thinking  upon  his  broken 
head  in  the  churchyard  of  Martindale  cum  Moultrassie. 

Dame  Margaret  sometimes  transacted  the  necessary 
business  with  him  in  person;  and  when  he  came  to  the 
castle  on  these  occasions,  she  thought  she  saw  a  mali- 
cious and  disobliging  expression  in  his  manner  and  coun- 
tenance. Yet  his  actual  conduct  was  not  only  fair  but 
liberal;  for  indulgence  was  given,  in  the  way  of  delay  of 
payment,  whenever  circumstances  rendered  it  necessary 
to  the  debtor  to  require  it.  It  seemed  to  Lady  Peveril 
that  the  agent,  in  such  cases,  was  acting  under  the  strict 
orders  of  his  absent  employer,  concerning  whose  welfare 
she  could  not  help  feeling  a  certain  anxiety. 

Shortly  after  the  failure  of  the  singular  negotiation 
for  attaining  peace  by  combat  which  Peveril  had  at- 
tempted to  open  with  Major  Bridgenorth,  that  gentle- 
man left  his  seat  of  Moultrassie  Hall  in  the  care  of  his 
old  housekeeper,  and  departed,  no  one  knew  whither, 
having  in  company  with  him  his  daughter  Alice  and  Mrs. 
Deborah  Debbitch,  now  formally  installed  in  all  the 
duties  of  a  governante;  to  these  was  added  the  Reverend 
Master  Solsgrace.  For  some  time  pubHc  rumour  per- 
sisted in  asserting  that  Major  Bridgenorth  had  only 
retreated  to  a  distant  part  of  the  country  for  a  season, 
to  achieve  his  supposed  purpose  of  marrying  Mrs. 
Deborah,  and  of  letting  the  news  be  cold,  and  the  laugh 

147 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  the  neighbourhood  be  ended,  ere  he  brought  her  down 
as  mistress  of  Moultrassie  Hall.  This  rumour  died  away; 
and  it  was  then  affirmed  that  he  had  removed  to  foreign 
parts,  to  ensure  the  continuance  of  health  in  so  delicate 
a  constitution  as  that  of  little  Alice.  But  when  the 
major's  dread  of  Popery  was  remembered,  together  with 
the  still  deeper  antipathies  of  worthy  Master  Nehemiah 
Solsgrace,  it  was  resolved  unanimously  that  nothing 
less  than  what  they  might  deem  a  fair  chance  of  con- 
verting the  Pope  would  have  induced  the  parties  to 
trust  themselves  within  CathoHc  dominions.  The  most 
prevailing  opinion  was,  that  they  had  gone  to  New  Eng- 
land, the  refuge  then  of  many  whom  too  intimate  con- 
cern with  the  affairs  of  the  late  times,  or  the  desire  of 
enjoying  uncontrolled  freedom  of  conscience,  had  in- 
duced to  emigrate  from  Britain. 

Lady  Peveril  could  not  help  entertaining  a  vague  idea 
that  Bridgenorth  was  not  so  distant.  The  extreme  order 
in  which  everything  was  maintained  at  Moultrassie 
Hall  seemed  —  no  disparagement  to  the  care  of  Dame 
Dickens,  the  housekeeper,  and  the  other  persons  en- 
gaged —  to  argue  that  the  master's  eye  was  not  so  very 
far  off  but  that  its  occasional  inspection  might  be  appre- 
hended. It  is  true,  that  neither  the  domestics  nor  the 
attorney  answered  any  questions  respecting  the  resi- 
dence of  Master  Bridgenorth;  but  there  was  an  air  of 
mystery  about  them  when  interrogated  that  seemed  to 
argue  more  than  met  the  ear. 

About  five  years  after  Master  Bridgenorth  had  left 
the  country,  a  singular  incident  took  place.  Sir  Geoffrey 
was  absent  at  the  Chesterfield  races,  and  Lady  Peveril, 
who  was  in  the  habit  of  walking  around  every  part  of 

148 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  neighbourhood  unattended,  or  only  accompanied  by 
EUesmere  or  her  little  boy,  had  gone  down  one  evening 
upon  a  charitable  errand  to  a  solitary  hut,  whose  inhab- 
itant lay  sick  of  a  fever,  which  was  supposed  to  be  infec- 
tious. Lady  Peveril  never  allowed  apprehensions  of  this 
kind  to  stop  '  devoted  charitable  deeds ' ;  but  she  did 
not  choose  to  expose  either  her  son  or  her  attendant  to 
the  risk  which  she  herself,  in  some  confidence  that  she 
knew  precautions  for  escaping  the  danger,  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  incur. 

Lady  Peveril  had  set  out  at  a  late  hour  in  the  evening, 
and  the  way  proved  longer  than  she  expected;  several 
circumstances  also  occurred  to  detain  her  at  the  hut  of 
her  patient.  It  was  a  broad  autumn  moonlight  when  she 
prepared  to  return  homeward  through  the  broken  glades 
and  upland  which  divided  her  from  the  castle.  This  she 
considered  as  a  matter  of  very  little  importance  in  so 
quiet  and  sequestered  a  country,  where  the  road  lay 
chiefly  through  her  own  domains,  especially  as  she  had 
a  lad  about  fifteen  years  old,  the  son  of  her  patient,  to 
escort  her  on  the  way.  The  distance  was  better  than  two 
miles,  but  might  be  considerably  abridged  by  passing 
through  an  avenue  belonging  to  the  estate  of  Moul- 
trassie  Hall,  which  she  had  avoided  as  she  came,  not 
from  the  ridiculous  rumours  which  pronounced  it  to  be 
haunted,  but  because  her  husband  was  much  displeased 
when  any  attempt  was  made  to  render  the  walks  of  the 
castle  and  hall  common  to  the  inhabitants  of  both.  The 
good  lady,  in  consideration,  perhaps,  of  extensive  latitude 
allowed  to  her  in  the  more  important  concerns  of  the 
family,  made  a  point  of  never  interfering  with  her  hus- 
band's whims  or  prejudices;  and  it  is  a  compromise 

149 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

which  we  would  heartily  recommend  to  all  managing 
matrons  of  our  acquaintance;  for  it  is  surprising  how 
much  real  power  will  be  cheerfully  resigned  to  the  fair 
sex  for  the  pleasure  of  being  allowed  to  ride  one's  hobby 
in  peace  and  quiet. 

Upon  the  present  occasion,  however,  although  the 
Dobby's  Walk  was  within  the  inhibited  domains  of  the 
hall,  the  Lady  Peveril  determined  to  avail  herself  of  it, 
for  the  purpose  of  shortening  her  road  home,  and  she 
directed  her  steps  accordingly.  But  when  the  peasant- 
boy,  her  companion,  who  had  hitherto  followed  her, 
whisthng  cheerily,  with  a  hedge-bill  in  his  hand,  and  his 
hat  on  one  side,  perceived  that  she  turned  to  the  stile 
which  entered  to  the  Dobby's  Walk,  he  showed  symp- 
toms of  great  fear,  and  at  length,  coming  to  the  lady's 
side,  petitioned  her,  in  a  whimpering  tone,  'Don't  ye 
now  —  don't  ye  now,  my  lady  —  don't  ye  go  yonder.' 

Lady  Peveril,  observing  that  his  teeth  chattered  in 
his  head,  and  that  his  whole  person  exhibited  great  signs 
of  terror,  began  to  recollect  the  report  that  the  first 
squire  of  Moultrassie,  the  brewer  of  Chesterfield,  who 
had  bought  the  estate,  and  then  died  of  melancholy  for 
lack  of  something  to  do,  and,  as  was  said,  not  without 
suspicions  of  suicide,  was  supposed  to  walk  in  this 
sequestered  avenue,  accompanied  by  a  large  headless 
mastiff,  which,  when  he  was  alive,  was  a  particular 
favourite  of  the  ex-brewer.  To  have  expected  any  pro- 
tection from  her  escort,  in  the  condition  to  which  super- 
stitious fear  had  reduced  him,  would  have  been  truly  a 
hopeless  trust;  and  Lady  Peveril,  who  was  not  appre- 
hensive of  any  danger,  thought  there  would  be  great 
cruelty  in  dragging  the  cowardly  boy  into  a  scene  which 

150 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

he  regarded  with  so  much  apprehension.  She  gave  him, 
therefore,  a  silver  piece,  and  permitted  him  to  return. 
The  latter  boon  seemed  even  more  acceptable  than  the 
first;  for,  ere  she  could  return  the  purse  into  her  pocket, 
she  heard  the  wooden  clogs  of  her  bold  convoy  in  full 
retreat,  by  the  way  from  whence  they  came. 

Smiling  within  herself  at  the  fear  she  esteemed  so 
ludicrous,  Lady  Peveril  ascended  the  stile,  and  was  soon 
hidden  from  the  broad  hght  of  the  moonbeams  by  the 
numerous  and  entangled  boughs  of  the  huge  elms, 
which,  meeting  from  either  side,  totally  overarched  the 
old  avenue.  The  scene  was  calculated  to  excite  solemn 
thoughts;  and  the  distant  glimmer  of  a  light  from  one 
of  the  numerous  casements  in  the  front  of  Moultrassie 
Hall,  which  lay  at  some  distance,  was  calculated  to  make 
them  even  melancholy.  She  thought  of  the  fate  of  that 
family  —  of  the  deceased  Mrs.  Bridgenorth,  with  whom 
she  had  often  walked  in  this  very  avenue,  and  who, 
though  a  woman  of  no  high  parts  or  accomplishments, 
had  always  testified  the  deepest  respect  and  the  most 
earnest  gratitude  for  such  notice  as  she  had  shown 
to  her.  She  thought  of  her  blighted  hopes  —  her  pre- 
mature death  —  the  despair  of  her  self -banished  hus- 
band —  the  uncertain  fate  of  their  orphan  child,  for 
whom  she  felt,  even  at  this  distance  of  time,  some  touch 
of  a  mother's  affection. 

Upon  such  sad  subjects  her  thoughts  were  turned, 
when,  just  as  she  attained  the  middle  of  the  avenue,  the 
imperfect  and  checkered  light  which  found  its  way 
through  the  silvan  archway  showed  her  something  which 
resembled  the  figure  of  a  man.  Lady  Peveril  paused  a 
moment,  but  instantly  advanced;  her  bosom,  perhaps, 

151 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

gave  one  startled  throb,  as  a  debt  to  the  superstitious 
belief  of  the  times,  but  she  instantly  repelled  the 
thought  of  supernatural  appearances.  From  those  that 
were  merely  mortal  she  had  nothing  to  fear.  A  marauder 
on  the  game  was  the  worst  character  whom  she  was 
hkely  to  encounter;  and  he  would  be  sure  to  hide  him- 
self from  her  observation.  She  advanced,  accordingly, 
steadily;  and,  as  she  did  so,  had  the  satisfaction,  to 
observe  that  the  figure,  as  she  expected,  gave  place  to 
her,  and  glided  away  amongst  the  trees  on  the  left-hand 
side  of  the  avenue.  As  she  passed  the  spot  on  which  the 
form  had  been  so  lately  visible,  and  bethought  herself 
that  this  wanderer  of  the  night  might,  nay  must,  be  in 
her  vicinity,  her  resolution  could  not  prevent  her  mend- 
ing her  pace,  and  that  with  so  little  precaution,  that, 
stimibHng  over  the  Hmb  of  a  tree,  which,  twisted  off  by 
a  late  tempest,  still  lay  in  the  avenue,  she  fell,  and,  as 
she  fell,  screamed  aloud.  A  strong  hand  in  a  moment 
afterwards  added  to  her  fear  by  assisting  her  to  rise, 
and  a  voice,  to  whose  accents  she  was  not  a  stranger, 
though  they  had  been  long  unheard,  said,  *Is  it  not  you, 
Lady  Peveril? ' 

*It  is  I,'  said  she,  commanding  her  astonishment  and 
fear;  'and,  if  my  ear  deceive  me  not,  I  speak  to  Master 
Bridgenorth.' 

*I  was  that  man,'  he  repHed,  'while  oppression  left 
me  a  name.' 

He  spoke  nothing  more,  but  continued  to  walk  beside 
her  for  a  minute  or  two  in  silence.  She  felt  her  situation 
embarrassing;  and,  to  divest  it  of  that  feeling,  as  well  as 
out  of  real  interest  in  the  question,  she  asked  him,  'How 
her  god-daughter  Alice  was  now? ' 

152 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Of  god-daughter,  madam/  answered  Major  Bridge- 
north,  *I  know  nothing;  that  being  one  of  the  names 
which  have  been  introduced  to  the  corruption  and  pol- 
lution of  God's  ordinances.  The  infant  who  owed  to 
your  ladyship,  so  called,  her  escape  from  disease  and 
death,  is  a  healthy  and  thriving  girl,  as  I  am  given  to 
understand  by  those  in  whose  charge  she  is  lodged,  for 
I  have  not  lately  seen  her.  And  it  is  even  the  recollec- 
tion of  these  passages  which  in  a  manner  impelled  me, 
alarmed  also  by  your  fall,  to  offer  myself  to  you  in  this 
time  and  mode,  which  in  other  respects  is  no  way  con- 
sistent with  my  present  safety.' 

'With  your  safety.  Master  Bridgenorth!'  said  the 
Lady  Peveril;  'surely,  I  could  never  have  thought  that 
it  was  in  danger!' 

'You  have  some  news,  then,  yet  to  learn,  madam,' 
said  Major  Bridgenorth;  'but  you  will  hear,  in  the 
course  of  to-morrow,  reasons  why  I  dare  not  appear 
openly  in  the  neighbourhood  of  my  own  property,  and 
wherefore  there  is  small  judgment  in  committing  the 
knowledge  of  my  present  residence  to  any  one  connected 
with  Martindale  Castle.' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  the  lady,  *you  were  in 
former  times  prudent  and  cautious;  I  hope  you  have 
been  misled  by  no  hasty  impression  —  by  no  rash 
scheme ;  I  hope  — ' 

'Pardon  my  interrupting  you,  madam,'  said  Bridge- 
north.  '  I  have  indeed  been  changed  —  ay,  my  very 
heart  within  me  has  been  changed.  In  the  times  to 
which  your  ladyship,  so  called,  thinks  proper  to  refer, 
I  was  a  man  of  this  world,  bestowing  on  it  all  my 
thoughts,  all  my  actions,  save  formal  observances,  little 

153 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

deeming  what  was  the  duty  of  a  Christian  man,  and  how 
far  his  self-denial  ought  to  extend,  even  unto  giving  all 
as  if  he  gave  nothing.  Hence  I  thought  chiefly  on  carnal 
things  —  on  the  adding  of  field  to  field,  and  wealth  to 
wealth,  of  the  balancing  between  party  and  party, 
securing  a  friend  here  without  losing  a  friend  there.  But 
Heaven  smote  me  for  my  apostasy,  the  rather  that  I 
abused  the  name  of  religion,  as  a  self-seeker,  and  a  most 
blinded  and  carnal  will-worshipper.  But  I  thank  Him 
who  hath  at  length  brought  me  out  of  Egypt.' 

In  our  day,  although  we  have  many  instances  of 
enthusiasm  among  us,  we  might  still  suspect  one  who 
avowed  it  thus  suddenly  and  broadly  of  hypocrisy  or 
of  insanity;  but,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times, 
such  opinions  as  those  which  Bridgenorth  expressed  were 
openly  pleaded  as  the  ruHng  motives  of  men's  actions. 
The  sagacious  Vane,  the  brave  and  skilful  Harrison, 
were  men  who  acted  avowedly  under  the  influence  of 
such.  Lady  Peveril,  therefore,  was  more  grieved  than 
surprised  at  the  language  she  heard  Major  Bridgenorth 
use,  and  reasonably  concluded  that  the  society  and  cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  might  lately  have  been  engaged 
had  blown  into  a  flame  the  spark  of  eccentricity  which 
always  smouldered  in  his  bosom.  This  was  the  more 
probable,  considering  that  he  was  melancholy  by  consti- 
tution and  descent,  that  he  had  been  unfortunate  in 
several  particulars,  and  that  no  passion  is  more  easily 
nursed  by  indulgence  than  the  species  of  enthusiasm 
of  which  he  now  showed  tokens.  She  therefore  an- 
swered him  by  calmly  hoping,  'That  the  expression  of 
his  sentiments  had  not  involved  him  in  suspicion  or  in 
danger.' 

154 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'In  suspicion,  madam!'  answered  the  major;  'for  I 
cannot  forbear  giving  to  you,  such  is  the  strength  of 
habit,  one  of  those  idle  titles  by  which  we  poor  potsherds 
are  wont,  in  our  pride,  to  denominate  each  other.  I 
walk  not  only  in  suspicion,  but  in  that  degree  of  danger 
that,  were  your  husband  to  meet  me  at  this  instant  — 
me,  a  native  Englishman,  treading  on  my  own  lands  — 
I  have  no  doubt  he  would  do  his  best  to  offer  me  to  the 
Moloch  of  Romish  superstition  who  now  rages  abroad 
for  victims  among  God's  people.' 

'You  surprise  me  by  your  language.  Major  Bridge- 
north,'  said  the  lady,  who  now  felt  rather  anxious  to 
be  reheved  from  his  company,  and  with  that  purpose 
walked  on  somewhat  hastily.  He  mended  his  pace, 
however,  and  kept  close  by  her  side. 

'Know  you  not,'  said  he,  'that  Satan  hath  come  down 
upon  earth  with  great  wrath,  because  his  time  is  short. 
The  next  heir  to  the  crown  is  an  avowed  Papist;  and 
who  dare  assert,  save  sycophants  and  time-servers,  that 
he  who  wears  it  is  not  equally  ready  to  stoop  to  Rome, 
were  he  not  kept  in  awe  by  a  few  noble  spirits  in  the 
Commons'  House?  You  believe  not  this;  yet  in  my 
soHtary  and  midnight  walks,  when  I  thought  on  your 
kindness  to  the  dead  and  to  the  Hving,  it  was  my  prayer 
that  I  might  have  the  means  granted  to  warn  you,  and 
lo!  Heaven  hath  heard  me.' 

'Major  Bridgenorth,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  'you  were 
wont  to  be  moderate  in  these  sentiments  —  compara- 
tively moderate,  at  least  —  and  to  love  your  own  reK- 
gion,  without  hating  that  of  others.' 

'  What  I  was  while  in  the  gall  of  bitterness  and  in  the 
bond  of  iniquity,  it  signifies  not  to  recall,'  answered  he. 

155 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  was  then  like  to  Gallio,  who  cared  for  none  of  these 
things.  I  doted  on  creature-comforts  —  I  clung  to 
worldly  honour  and  repute  —  my  thoughts  were  earth- 
ward, or  those  I  turned  to  Heaven  were  cold,  formal, 
Pharisaical  meditations.  I  brought  nothing  to  the  altar 
save  straw  and  stubble.  Heaven  saw  need  to  chastise  me 
in  love.  I  was  stripped  of  all  that  I  clung  to  on  earth ;  my 
worldly  honour  was  torn  from  me ;  I  went  forth  an  exile 
from  the  home  of  my  fathers  —  a  deprived  and  desolate 
man  —  a  baffled,  and  beaten,  and  dishonoured  man. 
But  who  shall  find  out  the  ways  of  Providence?  Such 
were  the  means  by  which  I  was  chosen  forth  as  a  cham- 
pion for  the  truth,  holding  my  life  as  nothing,  if  thereby 
that  may  be  advanced.  But  this  was  not  what  I  wished 
to  speak  of.  Thou  hast  saved  the  earthly  Hfe  of  my 
child;  let  me  save  the  eternal  welfare  of  yours.' 

Lady  Peveril  was  silent.  They  were  now  approaching 
the  point  where  the  avenue  terminated  in  a  communi- 
cation with  a  pubKc  road,  or  rather  pathway,  running 
through  an  uninclosed  common  field;  this  the  lady  had 
to  prosecute  for  a  little  way,  until  a  turn  of  the  path 
gave  her  admittance  into  the  park  of  Martindale.  She 
now  felt  sincerely  anxious  to  be  in  the  open  moonshine, 
and  avoided  reply  to  Bridgenorth  that  she  might  make 
the  more  haste.  But  as  they  reached  the  junction  of  the 
avenue  and  the  public  road,  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  arm, 
and  commanded,  rather  than  requested,  her  to  stop. 
She  obeyed.  He  pointed  to  a  huge  oak,  of  the  largest 
size,  which  grew  on  the  summit  of  a  knoll  in  the  open 
ground  which  terminated  the  avenue,  and  was  exactly 
so  placed  as  to  serve  for  a  termination  to  the  vista.  The 
moonshine  without  the  avenue  was  so  strong  that, 

156 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

amidst  the  flood  of  light  which  it  poured  on  the  vener- 
able tree,  they  could  easily  discover,  from  the  shattered 
state  of  the  boughs  on  one  side,  that  it  had  suffered 
damage  from  lightning.  'Remember  you,'  he  said, 
'when  we  last  looked  together  on  that  tree?  I  had  rid- 
den from  London,  and  brought  with  me  a  protection 
from  the  committee  for  your  husband;  and  as  I  passed 
the  spot  —  here  on  this  spot  where  we  now  stand,  you 
stood  with  my  lost  Alice  —  two  —  the  last  two  of  my 
beloved  infants  gambolled  before  you.  I  leaped  from 
my  horse ;  to  her  I  was  a  husband  —  to  those  a  father  — 
to  you  a  welcome  and  revered  protector.  What  am  I 
now  to  any  one? '  He  pressed  his  hand  on  his  brow,  and 
groaned  in  agony  of  spirit. 

It  was  not  in  the  Lady  Peveril's  nature  to  hear  sorrow 
without  an  attempt  at  consolation.  'Master  Bridge- 
north,'  she  said,  'I  blame  no  man's  creed,  while  I  believe 
and  follow  my  own ;  and  I  rejoice  that  in  yours  you  have 
sought  consolation  for  temporal  afEictions.  But  does 
not  every  Christian  creed  teach  us  alike  that  afEiction 
should  soften  our  heart? ' 

'Ay,  woman,'  said  Bridgenorth,  sternly,  'as  the  light- 
ning which  shattered  yonder  oak  hath  softened  its  trunk. 
No ;  the  seared  wood  is  the  fitter  for  the  use  of  the  work- 
men ;  the  hardened  and  the  dried-up  heart  is  that  which 
can  best  bear  the  task  imposed  by  these  dismal  times. 
God  and  man  will  no  longer  endure  the  unbridled  profli- 
gacy of  the  dissolute  —  the  scoffing  of  the  profane  —  the 
contempt  of  the  Divine  laws  —  the  infraction  of  human 
rights.  The  times  demand  righters  and  avengers,  and 
there  will  be  no  want  of  them.' 

'I  deny  not  the  existence  of  much  evil,'  said  Lady 

157 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Peveril,  compelling  herself  to  answer,  and  beginning  at 
the  same  time  to  walk  forward;  'and  from  hearsay, 
though  not,  I  thank  Heaven,  from  observation,  I  am 
convinced  of  the  wild  debauchery  of  the  times.  But  let 
us  trust  it  may  be  corrected  without  such  violent  reme- 
dies as  you  hint  at.  Surely  the  ruin  of  a  second  civil  war, 
though  I  trust  your  thoughts  go  not  that  dreadful 
length,  were  at  best  a  desperate  alternative.' 

'Sharp,  but  sure,'  replied  Bridgenorth.  'The  blood 
of  the  Paschal  lamb  chased  away  the  destroying  angel; 
the  sacrifices  offered  on  the  threshing-floor  of  Araunah 
stayed  the  pestilence.  Fire  and  sword  are  severe  reme- 
dies, but  they  purge  and  purify.' 

'Alas!  Major  Bridgenorth,'  said  the  lady,  'wise  and 
moderate  in  your  youth,  can  you  have  adopted  in  your 
advanced  life  the  thoughts  and  language  of  those  whom 
you  yourself  beheld  drive  themselves  and  the  nation  to 
the  brink  of  ruin? ' 

'I  know  not  what  I  then  was;  you  know  not  what  I 
now  am,'  he  replied,  and  suddenly  broke  off;  for  they 
even  then  came  forth  into  the  open  light,  and  it  seemed 
as  if,  feeling  himself  under  the  lady's  eye,  he  was  disposed 
to  soften  his  tone  and  his  language. 

At  the  first  distinct  view  which  she  had  of  his  person, 
she  was  aware  that  he  was  armed  with  a  short  sword,  a 
poniard,  and  pistols  at  his  belt  —  precautions  very  un- 
usual for  a  man  who  formerly  had  seldom,  and  only 
on  days  of  ceremony,  carried  a  walking  rapier,  though 
such  was  the  habitual  and  constant  practice  of  gentle- 
men of  his  station  in  Hfe.  There  seemed  also  something 
of  more  stern  determination  than  usual  in  his  air,  which 
indeed  had  always  been  rather  sullen  than  affable;  and 


PEVERn.  OF  THE  PEAK 

ere  she  could  repress  the  sentiment,  she  could  not  help 
saying,  'Master  Bridgenorth,  you  are  indeed  changed.' 

'You  see  but  the  outward  man,'  he  replied;  'the 
change  within  is  yet  deeper.  But  it  was  not  of  myself 
that  I  desired  to  talk:  I  have  already  said  that,  as  you 
have  preserved  my  child  from  the  darkness  of  the  grave, 
I  would  willingly  preserve  yours  from  that  more  utter 
darkness  which,  I  fear,  hath  involved  the  path  and 
walks  of  his  father.' 

'I  must  not  hear  this  of  Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  the  Lady 
Peveril;  'I  must  bid  you  farewell  for  the  present;  and 
when  we  again  meet  at  a  more  suitable  time,  I  will  at 
least  Usten  to  your  advice  concerning  JuHan,  although 
I  should  not  perhaps  incline  to  it.' 

'That  more  suitable  time  may  never  come,'  replied 
Bridgenorth.  'Time  wanes,  eternity  draws  nigh. 
Hearken!  It  is  said  to  be  your  purpose  to  send  the 
young  JuHan  to  be  bred  up  in  yonder  bloody  island, 
under  the  hand  of  your  kinswoman,  that  cruel  murderess, 
by  whom  was  done  to  death  a  man  more  worthy  of 
vital  existence  than  any  that  she  can  boast  among  her 
vaunted  ancestry.  These  are  current  tidings.  Are  they 
true?' 

'I  do  not  blame  you.  Master  Bridgenorth,  for  think- 
ing harshly  of  my  cousin  of  Derby,'  said  Lady  Peveril; 
'nor  do  I  altogether  vindicate  the  rash  action  of  which 
she  hath  been  guilty.  Nevertheless,  in  her  habitation, 
it  is  my  husband's  opinion  and  my  own  that  Julian  may 
be  trained  in  the  studies  and  accomplishments  becoming 
his  rank,  along  with  the  young  Earl  of  Derby.' 

'  Under  the  curse  of  God  and  the  blessing  of  the  Pope 
of  Rome,'  said  Bridgenorth.    'You,  lady,  so  quick- 

159 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sighted  in  matters  of  earthly  prudence,  are  you  blind  to 
the  gigantic  pace  at  which  Rome  is  moving  to  regain 
this  country,  once  the  richest  gem  in  her  usurped  tiara? 
The  old  are  seduced  by  gold,  the  youth  by  pleasure,  the 
weak  by  flattery,  cowards  by  fear,  and  the  courageous  by 
ambition.  A  thousand  baits  for  each  taste,  and  each 
bait  concealing  the  same  deadly  hook.' 

*I  am  well  aware,  Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  'that  my  kinswoman  is  a  Catholic;^  but  her 
son  is  educated  in  the  Church  of  England's  principles, 
agreeably  to  the  command  of  her  deceased  husband.' 

'Is  it  likely,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'that  she,  who 
fears  not  shedding  the  blood  of  the  righteous,  whether 
on  the  field  or  scaffold,  will  regard  the  sanction  of  her 
promise  when  her  religion  bids  her  break  it?  Or,  if  she 
does,  what  shall  your  son  be  the  better,  if  he  remain  in 
the  mire  of  his  father?  What  are  your  Episcopal  tenets 
but  mere  Popery,  save  that  ye  have  chosen  a  temporal 
tyrant  for  your  pope,  and  substitute  a  mangled  mass  in 
English  for  that  which  your  predecessors  pronounced  in 
Latin?  But  why  speak  I  of  these  things  to  one  who  hath 
ears  indeed,  and  eyes,  yet  cannot  see,  listen  to,  or  under- 
stand what  is  alone  worthy  to  be  heard,  seen,  and  known? 
Pity,  that  what  hath  been  wrought  so  fair  and  exquisite 
in  form  and  disposition  should  be  yet  bhnd,  deaf,  and 
ignorant,  like  the  things  which  perish! ' 

'We  shall  not  agree  on  these  subjects,  Master  Bridge- 
north,'  said  the  lady,  anxious  still  to  escape  from  this 
strange  conference,  though  scarce  knowing  what  to 
apprehend;  'once  more,  I  must  bid  you  farewell.' 

1  I  have  elsewhere  noticed  that  this  is  a  deviation  from  the  truth: 
Charlotte  Countess  of  Derby  was  a  Huguenot. 

1 60 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Stay  yet  an  instant,'  he  said,  again  laying  his  hand 
on  her  arm ; '  I  would  stop  you  if  I  saw  you  rushing  on  the 
brink  of  an  actual  precipice;  let  me  prevent  you  from 
a  danger  still  greater.  How  shall  I  work  upon  your  un- 
believing mind?  Shall  I  tell  you  that  the  debt  of  blood- 
shed yet  remains  a  debt  to  be  paid  by  the  bloody  house 
of  Derby?  And  wilt  thou  send  thy  son  to  be  among  those 
from  whom  it  shall  be  exacted?' 

'You  wish  to  alarm  me  in  vain,  Master  Bridgenorth/ 
answered  the  lady ;  '  what  penalty  can  be  exacted  from 
the  countess  for  an  action  which  I  have  already  called 
a  rash  one  has  been  long  since  levied.' 

'You  deceive  yourself,'  retorted  he,  sternly.    'Think 

you  a  paltry  sum  of  money  given  to  be  wasted  on  the 

debaucheries  of  Charles  can  atone  for  the  death  of  such 

I     a  man  as  Christian  —  a  man  precious  alike  to  Heaven 

and  to  earth?    Not  on  such  terms  is  the  blood  of  the 

I     righteous  to  be  poured  forth!    Every  hour's  delay  is 

numbered  down  as  adding  interest  to  the  grievous  debt 

which  will  one  day  be  required  from  that  bloodthirsty 

woman.' 

I        At  this  moment,  the  distant  tread  of  horses  was  heard 

on  the  road  on  which  they  held  this  singular  dialogue. 

Bridgenorth  listened  a  moment,  and  then  said,  'Forget 

I     that  you  have  seen  me  —  name  not  my  name  to  your 

nearest  or  dearest  —  lock  my  counsel  in  your  breast  — 

profit  by  it,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  you.' 

So  saying,  he  turned  from  her,  and,  plunging  through 
a  gap  in  the  fence,  regained  the  cover  of  his  own  wood, 
along  which  the  path  still  led. 

The  noise  of  horses  advancing  at  full  trot  now  came 
nearer;  and  Lady  Peveril  was  aware  of  several  riders, 
27  i6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

whose  forms  rose  indistinctly  on  the  summit  of  the  rising 
ground  behind  her.  She  became  also  visible  to  them; 
and  one  or  two  of  the  foremost  made  towards  her  at 
increased  speed,  challenging  her  as  they  advanced  with 
the  cry  of  '  Stand !  Who  goes  there? '  The  foremost  who 
came  up,  however,  exclaimed,  '  Mercy  on  us,  if  it  be  not 
my  lady ! '  and  Lady  Peveril,  at  the  same  moment,  recog- 
nised one  of  her  own  servants.  Her  husband  rode  up 
immediately  afterwards,  with  'How  now,  Dame  Mar- 
garet? What  makes  you  abroad  so  far  from  home,  and 
at  an  hour  so  late? ' 

Lady  Peveril  mentioned  her  visit  at  the  cottage,  but 
did  not  think  it  necessary  to  say  aught  of  having  seen 
Major  Bridgenorth;  afraid,  it  may  be,  that  her  husband 
might  be  displeased  with  that  incident. 

'  Charity  is  a  fine  thing,  and  a  fair,'  answered  Sir  Geof- 
frey; 'but  I  must  tell  you,  you  do  ill,  dame,  to  wander 
about  the  country  like  a  quacksalver  at  the  call  of  every 
old  woman  who  has  a  colic-fit ;  and  at  this  time  of  night 
especially,  and  when  the  land  is  so  unsettled  besides,' 

'  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  it  is  so,'  said  the  lady,  '  I  had 
heard  no  such  news.' 

'News!'  repeated  Sir  Geoffrey;  'why,  here  has  a  new 
plot  broken  out  among  the  Roundheads,  worse  than 
Venner's  by  a  butt's  length;^  and  who  should  be  so 
deep  in  it  as  our  old  neighbour  Bridgenorth?  There  is 
search  for  him  everywhere;  and  I  promise  you,  if  he  is 
found,  he  is  like  to  pay  old  scores.' 

'Then  I  am  sure  I  trust  he  will  not  be  found,'  said 
Lady  Peveril. 

'  The  celebrated  insurrection  of  the  Anabaptists  and  Fifth  Monarchy 
men  in  London,  in  the  year  1661. 

162 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*Do  you  so?'  replied  Sir  Geoffrey.  'Now  I,  on  my 
part,  hope  that  he  will;  and  it  shall  not  be  my  fault  if  he 
be  not;  for  which  effect  I  will  presently  ride  down  to 
Moultrassie,  and  make  strict  search,  according  to  my 
duty;  there  shall  neither  rebel  nor  traitor  earth  so  near 
Martindale  Castle,  that  I  will  assure  them.  And  you, 
my  lady,  be  pleased  for  once  to  dispense  with  a  pillion, 
and  get  up,  as  you  have  done  before,  behind  Saunders, 
who  shall  convey  you  safe  home.' 

The  lady  obeyed  in  silence;  indeed,  she  did  not  dare 
to  trust  her  voice  in  an  attempt  to  reply,  so  much  was 
she  disconcerted  with  the  intelligence  she  had  just 
heard. 

She  rode  behind  the  groom  to  the  castle,  where  she 
awaited  in  great  anxiety  the  return  of  her  husband.  He 
came  back  at  length;  but,  to  her  great  relief,  without  any 
prisoner.  He  then  explained  more  fully  than  his  haste 
had  before  permitted  that  an  express  had  come  down 
to  Chesterfield  with  news  from  court  of  a  purposed  in- 
surrection amongst  the  old  Commonwealth  men,  espe- 
cially those  who  had  served  in  the  army;  and  that  Bridge- 
north,  said  to  be  lurking  in  Derbyshire,  was  one  of  the 
principal  conspirators. 

After  some  time,  this  report  of  a  conspiracy  seemed  to 
die  away  like  many  others  of  that  period.  The  warrants 
were  recalled,  but  nothing  more  was  seen  or  heard  of 
Major  Bridgenorth;  although  it  is  probable  he  might 
safely  enough  have  shown  himself  as  openly  as  many  did 
who  lay  under  the  same  circumstances  of  suspicion.^ 

About  this  time  also,  Lady  Peveril,  with  many  tears, 
took  a  temporary  leave  of  her  son  Julian,  who  was  sent, 

*  See  Note  7. 
163 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  had  long  been  intended,  for  the  purpose  of  sharing  the 
education  of  the  young  Earl  of  Derby.  Although  the 
boding  words  of  Bridgenorth  sometimes  occurred  to 
Lady  Peveril's  mind,  she  did  not  suffer  them  to  weigh 
with  her  in  opposition  to  the  advantages  which  the  pa- 
tronage of  the  Countess  of  Derby  secured  to  her  son. 

The  plan  seemed  to  be  in  every  respect  successful ;  and 
when,  from  time  to  time,  Julian  visited  the  house  of  his 
father,  Lady  Peveril  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  him,  on 
every  occasion,  improved  in  person  and  in  manner,  as 
well  as  ardent  in  the  pursuit  of  more  solid  acquirements. 
In  process  of  time,  he  became  a  gallant  and  accomplished 
youth,  and  travelled  for  some  time  upon  the  Continent 
with  the  young  earl.  This  was  the  more  especially 
necessary  for  the  enlarging  of  their  acquaintance  with 
the  world,  because  the  countess  had  never  appeared  in 
London,  or  at  the  court  of  King  Charles,  since  her  flight 
to  the  Isle  of  Man  in  1660;  but  had  resided  in  solitary 
and  aristocratic  state,  alternately  on  her  estates  in  Eng- 
land and  in  that  island. 

This  had  given  to  the  education  of  both  the  young  men, 
otherwise  as  excellent  as  the  best  teachers  could  render 
it,  something  of  a  narrow  and  restricted  character;  but 
though  the  disposition  of  the  young  earl  was  hghter  and 
more  volatile  than  that  of  Julian,  both  the  one  and  the 
other  had  profited,  in  a  considerable  degree,  by  the  op- 
portunities afforded  them.  It  was  Lady  Derby's  strict 
injunction  to  her  son,  now  returning  from  the  Continent, 
that  he  should  not  appear  at  the  court  of  Charles.  But 
having  been  for  some  time  of  age,  he  did  not  think  it 
absolutely  necessary  to  obey  her  in  this  particular;  and 
had  remained  for  some  time  in  London,  partaking  the 

164 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

pleasures  of  the  gay  court  there,  with  all  the  ardour  of 
a  young  man  bred  up  in  comparative  seclusion. 

In  order  to  reconcile  the  countess  to  this  transgression 
of  her  authority,  for  he  continued  to  entertain  for  her  the 
profound  respect  in  which  he  had  been  educated,  Lord 
Derby  agreed  to  make  a  long  sojourn  with  her  in  her 
favourite  island,  which  he  abandoned  almost  entirely 
to  her  management. 

JuHan  Peveril  had  spent  at  Martindale  Castle  a  good 
deal  of  the  time  which  his  friend  had  bestowed  in  Lon- 
don; and  at  the  period  to  which,  passing  over  many 
years,  our  story  has  arrived,  as  it  were,  per  saltum,  they 
were  both  living,  as  the  countess's  guests,  in  the  Castle 
of  Rushin,  in  the  venerable  kingdom  of  Man. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Mona,  long  hid  from  those  who  roam  the  main. 

Collins. 

The  Isle  of  Man,  in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, was  very  different,  as  a  place  of  residence,  from 
what  it  is  now.  Men  had  not  then  discovered  its  merit 
as  a  place  of  occasional  refuge  from  the  storms  of  life, 
and  the  society  to  be  there  met  with  was  of  a  very  uni- 
form tenor.  There  were  no  smart  fellows,  whom  for- 
tune had  tumbled  from  the  seat  of  their  barouches,  no 
plucked  pigeons  or  winged  rooks,  no  disappointed  specu- 
lators, no  ruined  miners  —  in  short,  no  one  worth  talk- 
ing to.  The  society  of  the  island  was  limited  to  the 
natives  themselves,  and  a  few  merchants,  who  Hved  by 
contraband  trade.  The  amusements  were  rare  and  mo- 
notonous, and  the  mercurial  young  earl  was  soon  heart- 
ily tired  of  his  dominions.  The  islanders  also,  become 
too  wise  for  happiness,  had  lost  relish  for  the  harmless 
and  somewhat  childish  sports  in  which  their  simple 
ancestors  had  indulged  themselves.  May  was  no  longer 
ushered  in  by  the  imaginary  contest  between  the  queen 
of  returning  winter  and  advancing  spring;  the  listeners 
no  longer  sympathised  with  the  Uvely  music  of  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  one  or  the  discordant  sounds  with  which 
the  other  asserted  a  more  noisy  claim  to  attention. 
Christmas,  too,  closed,  and  the  steeples  no  longer  jan- 
gled forth  a  dissonant  peal.  The  wren,  to  seek  for  which 
used  to  be  the  sport  dedicated  to  the  holytide,  was  left 

1 66 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

iinpursued  and  unslain.  Party  spirit  had  come  among 
these  simple  people,  and  destroyed  their  good-humour, 
while  it  left  them  their  ignorance.  Even  the  races,  a 
sport  generally  interesting  to  people  of  all  ranks,  were 
no  longer  performed,  because  they  were  no  longer  inter- 
esting. The  gentlemen  were  divided  by  feuds  hitherto 
unknown,  and  each  seemed  to  hold  it  scorn  to  be  pleased 
with  the  same  diversions  that  amused  those  of  the  oppo- 
site faction.  The  hearts  of  both  parties  revolted  from 
the  recollection  of  former  days,  when  all  was  peace 
among  them,  when  the  Earl  of  Derby,  now  slaughtered, 
used  to  bestow  the  prize,  and  Christian,  since  so  vin- 
dictively executed,  started  horses  to  add  to  the  amuse- 
ment.^ 

Juhan  was  seated  in  the  deep  recess  which  led  to  a 
latticed  window  of  the  old  castle;  and,  with  his  arms 
crossed,  and  an  air  of  profound  contemplation,  was  sur- 
veying the  long  perspective  of  ocean,  which  rolled  its 
successive  waves  up  to  the  foot  of  the  rock  on  which 
the  ancient  pile  is  founded.  The  earl  was  suffering  under 
the  infliction  of  ennui,  now  looking  into  a  volume  of 
Homer,  now  whisthng,  now  swinging  on  his  chair,  now 
traversing  the  room,  till  at  length  his  attention  became 
swallowed  up  in  admiration  of  the  tranquillity  of  his 
companion. 

'King  of  men!'  he  said,  repeating  the  favourite  epi- 
thet by  which  Homer  describes  Agamemnon  —  '  I  trust 
for  the  old  Greek's  sake,  he  had  a  merrier  office  than 
being  King  of  Man.  Most  philosophical  Julian,  will 
nothing  rouse  thee,  not  even  a  bad  pun  on  my  own  royal 
dignity? ' 

»  See  Note  8, 

167 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'I  wish  you  would  be  a  little  more  the  King  in  Man/ 
said  Julian,  starting  from  his  reverie,  'and  then  you 
would  find  more  amusement  in  your  dominions.' 

'What!  dethrone  that  royal  Semiramis  my  mother/ 
said  the  young  lord,  'who  has  as  much  pleasure  in  play- 
ing queen  as  if  she  were  a  real  sovereign?  I  wonder  you 
can  give  me  such  counsel.' 

'Your  mother,  as  you  well  know,  my  dear  Derby, 
would  be  delighted  did  you  take  any  interest  in  the 
affairs  of  the  island.' 

'  Ay,  truly,  she  would  permit  me  to  be  king ;  but  she 
would  choose  to  remain  viceroy  over  me.  Why,  she 
would  only  gain  a  subject  the  more,  by  my  converting 
my  spare  time,  which  is  so  very  valuable  to  me,  to  the 
cares  of  royalty.  No  —  no,  Julian,  she  thinks  it  power 
to  direct  all  the  affairs  of  these  poor  Manxmen;  and, 
thinking  it  power,  she  finds  it  pleasure.  I  shall  not 
interfere,  unless  she  hold  a  high  court  of  justice  again. 
I  cannot  afford  to  pay  another  fine  to  my  brother.  King 
Charles.  But  I  forget  —  this  is  a  sore  point  with  you.' 

'With  the  countess,  at  least,'  replied  Julian;  'and  I 
wonder  you  will  speak  of  it.' 

'  Why,  I  bear  no  mahce  against  the  poor  man's  mem- 
ory any  more  than  yourself,  though  I  have  not  the  same 
reasons  for  holding  it  in  veneration,'  replied  the  Earl  of 
Derby; ' and  yet  I  have  some  respect  for  it  too.  I  remem- 
ber their  bringing  him  out  to  die.  It  was  the  first  holi- 
day I  ever  had  in  my  Hfe,  and  I  heartily  wish  it  had  been 
on  some  other  account.' 

'I  would  rather  hear  you  speak  of  anything  else,  my 
lord,'  said  Julian. 

'Why,  there  it  goes,'  answered  the  earl;  'whenever  I 
i68 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

talk  of  anything  that  puts  you  on  your  mettle  and 
warms  your  blood,  that  runs  as  cold  as  a  merman's  — 
to  use  a  simile  of  this  happy  island  —  hey  pass!  you 
press  me  to  change  the  subject.  Well,  what  shall  we 
talk  of?  O  Julian,  if  you  had  not  gone  down  to  earth 
yourself  among  the  castles  and  caverns  of  Derbyshire, 
we  should  have  had  enough  of  delicious  topics  —  the 
playhouses,  Julian!  both  the  King's  house  and  the 
Duke's  —  Louis's  establishment  is  a  jest  to  them;  and 
the  Ring  in  the  Park,  which  beats  the  Corso  at  Naples; 
and  the  beauties,  who  beat  the  whole  world!' 

*  I  am  very  willing  to  hear  you  speak  on  the  subject, 
my  lord,'  answered  Julian;  'the  less  I  have  seen  of  the 
London  world  myself,  the  more  I  am  likely  to  be 
amused  by  your  account  of  it.' 

*Ay,  my  friend,  but  where  to  begin?  with  the  wit  of 
Buckingham,  and  Sedley,  and  Etherege,  or  with  the 
grace  of  Harry  Jermyn,  the  courtesy  of  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  or  with  the  loveliness  of  La  Belle  Hamilton, 

of  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  of  Lady ,  the  person 

of  Roxalana,  the  smart  humour  of  Mrs.  Nelly ' 

*  Or  what  say  you  to  the  bewitching  sorceries  of  Lady 
Cynthia? '  demanded  his  companion. 

'Faith,  I  would  have  kept  these  to  myself,'  said  the 
earl,  'to  follow  your  prudent  example.  But  since  you 
ask  me,  I  fairly  own  I  cannot  tell  what  to  say  of  them; 
only  I  think  of  them  twenty  times  as  often  as  all  the 
beauties  I  have  spoke  of.  And  yet  she  is  neither  the 
twentieth  part  so  beautiful  as  the  plainest  of  these  court 
beauties,  nor  so  witty  as  the  dullest  I  have  named,  nor 
so  modish  —  that  is  the  great  matter  —  as  the  most 
obscure.    I  cannot  tell  what  makes  me  dote  on  her, 

169 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

except  that  she  is  as  capricious  as  her  whole  sex  put 
together.' 

'That  I  should  think  a  small  recommendation,'  an- 
swered his  companion. 

'Small,  do  you  term  it,'  rephed  the  earl,  'and  write 
yourself  a  brother  of  the  angle?  Why,  which  hke  you 
best?  to  pull  a  dead  strain  on  a  miserable  gudgeon, 
which  you  draw  ashore  by  main  force,  as  the  fellows 
here  tow  in  their  fishing-boats;  or  a  Hvely  salmon,  that 
makes  your  rod  crack  and  your  Hne  whistle  —  plays 
you  ten  thousand  mischievous  pranks  —  wearies  your 
heart  out  with  hopes  and  fears  —  and  is  only  laid  pant- 
ing on  the  bank  after  you  have  shown  the  most  unmatch- 
able  display  of  skill,  patience,  and  dexterity?  But  I  see 
you  have  a  mind  to  go  on  angling  after  your  own  old 
fashion.  Off  laced  coat,  and  on  brown  jerkin;  lively 
colours  scare  fish  in  the  sober  waters  of  the  Isle  of  Man ; 
faith,  in  London  you  will  catch  few,  unless  the  bait 
glistens  a  little.  But  you  are  going?  well,  good  luck  to 
you.  I  will  take  to  the  barge;  the  sea  and  wind  are  less 
inconstant  than  the  tide  you  have  embarked  on.' 

*  You  have  learned  to-  say  all  these  smart  things  in 
London,  my  lord,'  answered  Julian;  'but  we  shall  have 
you  a  penitent  for  them,  if  Lady  Cynthia  be  of  my 
mind.  Adieu,  and  pleasure  till  we  meet.' 

The  young  men  parted  accordingly;  and  while  the 
earl  betook  him  to  his  pleasure-voyage,  Julian,  as  his 
friend  had  prophesied,  assumed  the  dress  of  one  who 
means  to  amuse  himself  with  angling.  The  hat  and 
feather  were  exchanged  for  a  cap  of  grey  cloth;  the 
deeply  laced  cloak  and  doublet  for  a  simple  jacket  of 
the  same  colour,  with  hose  conforming;  and  finally, 

170 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

with  rod  in  hand  and  pannier  at  his  back,  mounted  upon 
a  handsome  Manx  pony,  young  Peveril  rode  briskly 
over  the  country  which  divided  him  from  one  of  those 
beautiful  streams  that  descend  to  the  sea  from  the  Kirk- 
Merlagh  mountains. 

Having  reached  the  spot  where  he  meant  to  commence 
his  day's  sport,  Julian  let  his  Httle  steed  graze,  which, 
accustomed  to  the  situation,  followed  him  like  a  dog; 
and  now  and  then,  when  tired  of  picking  herbage  in  the 
valley  through  which  the  stream  winded,  came  near  her 
master's  side,  and,  as  if  she  had  been  a  curious  amateur 
of  the  sport,  gazed  on  the  trouts  as  JuHan  brought  them 
strugghng  to  the  shore.  But  Fairy's  master  showed,  on 
that  day,  little  of  the  patience  of  a  real  angler,  and  took 
no  heed  to  old  Isaac  Walton's  recommendation  to  fish 
the  streams  inch  by  inch.  He  chose,  indeed,  with  an 
angler's  eye,  the  most  promising  casts,  where  the  stream 
broke  sparkling  over  a  stone,  affording  the  wonted  shel- 
ter to  a  trout;  or  where,  ghding  away  from  a  rippling 
current  to  a  still  eddy,  it  streamed  under  the  projecting 
bank,  or  dashed  from  the  pool  of  some  low  cascade.  By 
this  judicious  selection  of  spots  whereon  to  employ  his 
art,  the  sportsman's  basket  was  soon  sufficiently  heavy 
to  show  that  his  occupation  was  not  a  mere  pretext; 
and  so  soon  as  this  was  the  case,  he  walked  briskly  up 
the  glen,  only  making  a  cast  from  time  to  time,  in  case 
of  his  being  observed  from  any  of  the  neighbouring 
heights. 

It  was  a  little  green  and  rocky  valley  through  which 
the  brook  strayed,  very  lonely,  although  the  slight 
track  of  an  unformed  road  showed  that  it  was  occasion- 
ally traversed,  and  that  it  was  not  altogether  void  of 

171 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

inhabitants.  As  Peveril  advanced  still  farther,  the  right 
bank  reached  to  some  distance  from  the  stream,  leaving 
a  piece  of  meadow  ground,  the  lower  part  of  which, 
being  close  to  the  brook,  was  entirely  covered  with  rich 
herbage,  being  possibly  occasionally  irrigated  by  its 
overflow.  The  higher  part  of  the  level  ground  afforded 
a  stance  for  an  old  house,  of  a  singular  structure,  with 
a  terraced  garden,  and  a  cultivated  field  or  two  beside 
it.  In  former  times  a  Danish  or  Norwegian  fastness  had 
stood  here,  called  the  Black  Fort,  from  the  colour  of 
a  huge  heathy  hill,  which,  rising  behind  the  building, 
appeared  to  be  the  boundary  of  the  valley,  and  to  afford 
the  source  of  the  brook.  But  the  original  structure  had 
been  long  demolished,  as,  indeed,  it  probably  only  con- 
sisted of  dry  stones,  and  its  materials  had  been  appHed 
to  the  construction  of  the  present  mansion  —  the  work 
of  some  churchman  during  the  i6th  century,  as  was 
evident  from  the  huge  stonework  of  its  windows,  which 
scarce  left  room  for  Kght  to  pass  through,  as  well  as 
from  two  or  three  heavy  buttresses,  which  projected 
from  the  front  of  the  house,  and  exhibited  on  their  sur- 
face little  niches  for  images.  These  had  been  carefully 
destroyed,  and  pots  of  flowers  were  placed  in  the  niches 
in  their  stead,  besides  their  being  ornamented  by  creep- 
ing plants  of  various  kinds,  fancifully  twined  around 
them.  The  garden  was  also  in  good  order;  and  though 
the  spot  was  extremely  solitary,  there  was  about  it 
altogether  an  air  of  comfort,  accommodation,  and  even 
elegance,  by  no  means  generally  characteristic  of  the 
habitations  of  the  island  at  the  time. 

With  much  circumspection,  JuKan  Peveril  approached 
the  low  Gothic  porch,  which  defended  the  entrance  of 

172 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  mansion  from  the  tempests  incident  to  its  situation, 
and  was,  like  the  buttresses,  over-run  with  ivy  and  other 
creeping  plants.  An  iron  ring,  contrived  so  as  when 
drawn  up  and  down  to  rattle  against  the  bar  of  notched 
iron  through  which  it  was  suspended,  served  the  pur- 
pose of  a  knocker;  and  to  this  he  appHed  himself,  though 
with  the  greatest  precaution. 

He  received  no  answer  for  some  time,  and  indeed  it 
seemed  as  if  the  house  was  totally  uninhabited;  when  at 
length,  his  impatience  getting  the  upper  hand,  he  tried 
to  open  the  door,  and,  as  it  was  only  upon  the  latch, 
very  easily  succeeded.  He  passed  through  a  Uttle  low- 
arched  hall,  the  upper  end  of  which  was  occupied  by  a 
staircase,  and  turning  to  the  left,  opened  the  door  of  a 
summer  parlour,  wainscoted  with  black  oak,  and  very 
simply  furnished  with  chairs  and  tables  of  the  same 
materials,  the  former  cushioned  with  leather.  The 
apartment  was  gloomy  —  one  of  those  stone-shafted 

R      windows  which  we  have  mentioned,  with  its  small  lat- 
ticed panes,  and  thick  garland  of  foliage,  admitting  but 
an  imperfect  light. 
Over  the  chimney-piece,  which  was  of  the  same  mas- 

j  sive  materials  with  the  panelling  of  the  apartment,  was 
the  only  ornament  of  the  room  —  a  painting,  namely, 

I  representing  an  officer  in  the  military  dress  of  the  Civil 
Wars.  It  was  a  green  jerkin,  then  the  national  and 
peculiar  wear  of  the  Manxmen;  his  short  band,  which 
hung  down  on  the  cuirass,  the  orange-coloured  scarf, 
but,  above  all,  the  shortness  of  his  close-cut  hair,  show- 
ing evidently  to  which  of  the  great  parties  he  had  be- 
longed. His  right  hand  rested  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword; 
and  in  the  left  he  held  a  small  Bible,  bearing  the  inscrip- 

173 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tion,  'In  hoc  signo.'  The  countenance  was  of  a  light 
complexion,  with  fair  and  almost  effeminate  blue  eyes, 
and  an  oval  form  of  face ;  one  of  those  physiognomies  to 
which,  though  not  otherwise  unpleasing,  we  naturally 
attach  the  idea  of  melancholy  and  of  misfortune.^ 
Apparently  it  was  well  known  to  Julian  Peveril;  for, 
after  having  looked  at  it  for  a  long  time,  he  could  not 
forbear  muttering  aloud,  'What  would  I  give  that  that 
man  had  never  been  born,  or  that  he  still  lived!' 

*How  now  —  how  is  this?'  said  a  female,  who  entered 
the  room  as  he  uttered  this  reflection.  *  You  here.  Mas- 
ter Peveril,  in  spite  of  all  the  warnings  you  have  had! 
You  here,  in  the  possession  of  folks'  house  when  they 
are  abroad,  and  talking  to  yourself,  as  I  shall  warrant!' 

*  Yes,  Mistress  Deborah,'  said  Peveril,  'I  am  here  once 
more,  as  you  see,  against  every  prohibition,  and  in 
defiance  of  all  danger.  Where  is  Alice? ' 

'Where  you  will  never  see  her,  Master  Julian,  you 
may  satisfy  yourself  of  that,'  answered  Mistress  De- 
borah, for  it  was  that  respectable  governante;  and  sink- 
ing down  at  the  same  time  upon  one  of  the  large  leathern 
chairs,  she  began  to  fan  herself  with  her  handkerchief, 
and  complain  of  the  heat  in  a  most  ladylike  fashion. 

In  fact.  Mistress  Debbitch,  while  her  exterior  inti- 
mated a  considerable  change  of  condition  for  the  better, 
and  her  countenance  showed  the  less  favourable  effects 
of  the  twenty  years  which  had  passed  over  her  head, 
was  in  mind  and  manners  very  much  what  she  had  been 
when  she  battled  the  opinions  of  Madam  EUesmere  at 
Martindale  Castle.  In  a  word,  she  was  self-willed,  obsti- 
nate, and  coquettish  as  ever,  otherwise  no  ill-disposed 
'  See  Note  9. 
174 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

person.  Her  present  appearance  was  that  of  a  woman  of 
the  better  rank.  From  the  sobriety  of  the  fashion  of  her 
dress,  and  the  uniformity  of  its  colours,  it  was  plain  she 
belonged  to  some  sect  which  condemned  superfluous 
gaiety  in  attire ;  but  no  rules,  not  those  of  a  nunnery  or 
of  a  Quaker's  society,  can  prevent  a  Httle  coquetry  in 
that  particular,  where  a  woman  is  desirous  of  being 
supposed  to  retain  some  claim  to  personal  attention.  All 
Mistress  Deborah's  garments  were  so  arranged  as  might 
best  set  off  a  good-looking  woman,  whose  countenance 
indicated  ease  and  good  cheer,  who  called  herself  five- 
and-thirty,  and  was  well  entitled,  if  she  had  a  mind,  to 
call  herself  twelve  or  fifteen  years  older. 

JuHan  was  under  the  necessity  of  enduring  all  her 
tiresome  and  fantastic  airs,  and  awaiting  with  patience 
till  she  had  'prinked  herself  and  pinned  herself,'  flung 
her  hoods  back  and  drawn  them  forward,  snuffed  at  a 
little  bottle  of  essences,  closed  her  eyes  Hke  a  dying  fowl, 
turned  them  up  hke  a  duck  in  a  thunderstorm  —  when 
at  length,  having  exhausted  her  round  of  minauderies, 
she  condescended  to  open  the  conversation. 

'These  walks  will  be  the  death  of  me,'  she  said,  'and 
all  on  your  account,  Master  Juhan  Peveril;  for  if  Dame 
Christian  should  learn  that  you  have  chosen  to  make 
your  visits  to  her  niece,  I  promise  you  Mistress  Ahce 
would  be  soon  obliged  to  find  other  quarters,  and  so 
should  I.' 

'Come  now.  Mistress  Deborah,  be  good-humoured,' 
said  Juhan;  'consider,  was  not  all  this  intimacy  of  ours 
of  your  own  making?  Did  you  not  make  yourself 
known  to  me  the  ver^'  first  time  I  strolled  up  this  glen 
with  my  fishing-rod,  and  tell  me  that  you  were  my  for- 

175 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

mer  keeper,  and  that  Alice  had  been  my  little  playfel- 
low? And  what  could  there  be  more  natural  than  that 
I  should  come  back  and  see  two  such  agreeable  persons 
as  often  as  I  could? ' 

'Yes,'  said  Dame  Deborah;  'but  I  did  not  bid  you 
fall  in  love  with  us,  though,  or  propose  such  a  matter  as 
marriage  either  to  Alice  or  myself.' 

'  To  do  you  justice,  you  never  did,  Deborah,'  answered 
the  youth;  'but  what  of  that?  Such  things  will  come  out 
before  one  is  aware.  I  am  sure  you  must  have  heard 
such  proposals  fifty  times  when  you  least  expected  them.' 

'Fie — fie  —  fie,  Master  Julian  Peveril,'  said  the 
governante;  'I  would  have  you  to  know  that  I  have 
always  so  behaved  myself  that  the  best  of  the  land 
would  have  thought  twice  of  it,  and  have  very  well 
considered  both  what  he  was  going  to  say  and  how  he 
was  going  to  say  it,  before  he  came  out  with  such  pro- 
posals to  me.' 

'True  —  true.  Mistress  Deborah,'  continued  Julian; 
'but  all  the  world  have  not  your  discretion.  Then  Alice 
Bridgenorth  is  a  child  —  a  mere  child;  and  one  always 
asks  a  baby  to  be  one's  little  wife,  you  know.  Come,  I 
know  you  will  forgive  me.  Thou  wert  ever  the  best- 
natured,  kindest  woman  in  the  world;  and  you  know 
you  have  said  twenty  times  we  were  made  for  each 
other.' 

'O  no,  Master  Julian  Peveril;  no  —  no  —  no!'  ejacu- 
lated Deborah.  'I  may  indeed  have  said  your  estates 
were  born  to  be  united;  and  to  be  sure  it  is  natural  to 
me,  that  come  of  the  old  stock  of  the  honest  yeomanry  of 
Peveril  of  the  Peak's  estate,  to  wish  that  it  was  all  within 
the  ring  fence  again;  which  sure  enough  it  might  be, 

176 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

were  you  to  marry  Alice  Bridgenorth.  But  then  there 
is  the  knight  your  father  and  my  lady  your  mother; 
and  there  is  her  father,  that  is  half  crazy  with  his  reli- 
gion; and  her  aunt,  that  wears  eternal  black  grogram 
for  that  unlucky  Colonel  Christian;  and  there  is  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  that  would  serve  us  all  with  the 
same  sauce  if  we  were  thinking  of  anything  that  would 
displease  her.  And  besides  all  that,  you  have  broke  your 
word  with  Mistress  Alice,  and  everything  is  over  between 
you ;  and  I  am  of  opinion  it  is  quite  right  it  should  be 
all  over.  And  perhaps  it  may  be.  Master  Julian,  that  I 
should  have  thought  so  a  long  time  ago,  before  a  child 
like  Alice  put  it  into  my  head;  but  I  am  so  good- 
natured.' 

No  flatterer  like  a  lover  who  wishes  to  carry  his  point. 

*You  are  the  best-natured,  kindest  creature  in  the 

'      world,  Deborah.   But  you  have  never  seen  the  ring  I 

bought  for  you  at  Paris.    Nay,  I  will  put  it  on  your 

ll      finger  myself ;  what !  your  foster-son,  whom  you  loved  so 

well,  and  took  such  care  of!' 

He  easily  succeeded  in  putting  a  pretty  ring  of  gold, 
with  a  humorous  affectation  of  gallantry,  on  the  fat 
finger  of  Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch.  Hers  was  a  soul 
I  of  a  kind  often  to  be  met  with,  both  among  the  lower 
j  and  higher  vulgar,  who,  without  being,  on  a  broad  scale, 
accessible  to  bribes  or  corruption,  are  nevertheless  much 
attached  to  perquisites,  and  considerably  biassed  in 
their  line  of  duty,  though  perhaps  insensibly,  by  the 
love  of  petty  observances,  petty  presents,  and  trivial 
compliments.  Mistress  Debbitch  turned  the  ring  round, 
and  round,  and  round,  and  at  length  said,  in  a  whisper, 
'Well,  Master  Julian  Peveril,  it  signifies  nothing  deny- 

27  177 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing  anything  to  such  a  young  gentleman  as  you,  for 
young  gentlemen  are  always  so  obstinate !  and  so  I  may 
as  well  tell  you  that  Mistress  Alice  walked  back  from 
Kirk-Truagh  along  with  me  just  now,  and  entered  the 
house  at  the  same  time  with  myself.' 

'Why  did  you  not  tell  me  so  before?'  said  Julian, 
starting  up;  'where  —  where  is  she?' 

'You  had  better  ask  why  I  tell  you  so  now,  Master 
Julian,'  said  Dame  Deborah;  'for,  I  promise  you,  it  is 
against  her  express  commands;  and  I  would  not  have 
told  you  had  you  not  looked  so  pitiful.  But  as  for  seeing 
you,  that  she  will  not;  and  she  is  in  her  own  bedroom, 
with  a  good  oak  door  shut  and  bolted  upon  her,  that  is 
one  comfort.  And  so,  as  for  any  breach  of  trust  on  my 
part  —  I  promise  you,  the  little  saucy  minx  gives  it  no 
less  name  —  it  is  quite  impossible.' 

'Do  not  say  so,  Deborah  —  only  go — only  try  — 
tell  her  to  hear  me  —  tell  her  I  have  a  hundred  excuses 
for  disobeying  her  commands  —  tell  her  I  have  no  doubt 
to  get  over  all  obstacles  at  Martindale  Castle.' 

'Nay,  I  tell  you  it  is  all  in  vain,'  replied  the  dame. 
'When  I  saw  your  cap  and  rod  lying  in  the  hall,  I  did  but 
say,  "There  he  is  again,"  and  she  ran  up  the  stairs  like 
a  young  deer;  and  I  heard  key  turned  and  bolts  shot  ere 
I  could  say  a  single  word  to  stop  her ;  I  marvel  you  heard 
her  not.' 

'It  was  because  I  am,  as  I  ever  was,  an  owl  —  a 
dreaming  fool,  who  let  all  those  golden  minutes  pass 
which  my  luckless  life  holds  out  to  me  so  rarely.  Well  — 
tell  her  I  go  —  go  for  ever  —  go  where  she  will  hear  no 
more  of  me  —  where  no  one  shall  hear  more  of  me ! ' 

'O,  the  Father!'  said  the  dame,  'hear  how  he  talks! 

178 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

What  will  become  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  your  mother,  and 
of  me,  and  of  the  countess,  if  you  were  to  go  so  far  as 
you  talk  of?  And  what  would  become  of  poor  Alice  too? 
for  I  will  be  sworn  she  likes  you  better  than  she  says, 
and  I  know  she  used  to  sit  and  look  the  way  that  you 
used  to  come  up  the  stream,  and  now  and  then  ask  me 
if  the  morning  were  good  for  fishing.  And  all  the  while 
you  were  on  the  Continent,  as  they  call  it,  she  scarcely 
smiled  once,  unless  it  was  when  she  got  two  beautiful 
long  letters  about  foreign  parts.' 

'  Friendship,  Dame  Deborah  —  only  friendship  — 
cold  and  calm  remembrance  of  one  who,  by  your  kind 
permission,  stole  in  on  your  solitude  now  and  then,  with 
news  from  the  living  world  without.  Once,  indeed,  I 
thought  —  but  it  is  all  over  —  farewell.' 

So  saying,  he  covered  his  face  with  one  hand,  and  ex- 
tended the  other,  in  the  act  of  bidding  adieu  to  Dame 
Debbitch,  whose  kind  heart  became  unable  to  with- 
stand the  sight  of  his  affliction. 

'Now,  do  not  be  in  such  haste,'  she  said;  'I  will  go  up 
again,  and  tell  her  how  it  stands  with  you,  and  bring 
her  down,  if  it  is  in  woman's  power  to  do  it.' 

And  so  saying,  she  left  the  apartment  and  ran  up- 
stairs. 

Julian  Peveril,  meanwhile,  paced  the  apartment  in 
great  agitation,  waiting  the  success  of  Deborah's  inter- 
cession ;  and  she  remained  long  enough  absent  to  give  us 
time  to  explain,  in  a  short  retrospect,  the  circumstances 
which  had  led  to  his  present  situation. 


I 


CHAPTER  XII 

Ah  me!  for  aught  that  ever  I  could  read, 

Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history, 

The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth! 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

The  celebrated  passage  which  we  have  prefixed  to  this 
chapter  has,  Uke  most  observations  of  the  same  author, 
its  foundation  in  real  experience.  The  period  at  which 
love  is  formed  for  the  first  time,  and  felt  most  strongly, 
is  seldom  that  at  which  there  is  much  prospect  of  its 
being  brought  to  a  happy  issue.  The  state  of  artificial 
society  opposes  many  complicated  obstructions  to  early 
marriages;  and  the  chance  is  very  great  that  such 
obstacles  prove  insurmountable.  In  fine,  there  are  few 
men  who  do  not  look  back  in  secret  to  some  period  of 
their  youth  at  which  a  sincere  and  early  affection  was 
repulsed,  or  betrayed,  or  became  abortive  from  oppos- 
ing circumstances.  It  is  these  little  passages  of  secret 
history  which  leave  a  tinge  of  romance  in  every  bosom, 
scarce  permitting  us,  even  in  the  most  busy  or  the  most 
advanced  period  of  life,  to  listen  with  total  indifference 
to  a  tale  of  true  love. 

Juhan  Peveril  had  so  fixed  his  affections  as  to  ensure 
the  fullest  share  of  that  opposition  which  early  attach- 
ments are  so  apt  to  encounter.  Yet  nothing  so  natural 
as  that  he  should  have  done  so.  In  early  youth.  Dame 
Debbitch  had  accidentally  met  with  the  son  of  her  first 
patroness,  and  who  had  himself  been  her  earliest  charge, 
fishing  in  the  little  brook  already  noticed,  which  watered 

1 80 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  valley  in  which  she  resided  with  Alice  Bridgenorth. 
The  dame's  curiosity  easily  discovered  who  he  was;  and 
besides  the  interest  which  persons  in  her  condition  usu- 
ally take  in  the  young  people  who  have  been  under  their 
charge,  she  was  delighted  with  the  opportunity  to  talk 
about  former  times  —  about  Martindale  Castle  and 
friends  there,  about  Sir  Geoffrey  and  his  good  lady,  and 
now  and  then  about  Lance  Outram,  the  park-keeper. 

The  mere  pleasure  of  gratifying  her  inquiries  would 
scarce  have  had  power  enough  to  induce  Julian  to  repeat 
his  visits  to  the  lonely  glen;  but  Deborah  had  a  com- 
panion —  a  lovely  girl  —  bred  in  solitude,  and  in  the 
quiet  and  unpretending  tastes  which  solitude  encour- 
ages —  spirited  also,  and  inquisitive,  and  listening,  with 
a  laughing  cheek  and  an  eager  eye,  to  every  tale  which 
the  young  angler  brought  from  the  town  and  castle. 

Tlie  visits  of  Julian  to  the  Black  Fort  were  only  occa- 
sional; so  far  Dame  Deborah  showed  common  sense, 
which  was,  perhaps,  inspired  by  the  apprehension  of 
losing  her  place,  in  case  of  discovery.  She  had,  indeed, 
great  confidence  in  the  strong  and  rooted  belief,  amount- 
ing almost  to  superstition,  which  Major  Bridgenorth 
entertained,  that  his  daughter's  continued  health  could 
only  be  ensured  by  her  continuing  under  the  charge  of 
one  who  had  acquired  Lady  Peveril's  supposed  skill  in 
treating  those  subject  to  such  ailments.  This  belief 
Dame  Deborah  had  improved  to  the  utmost  of  her 
simple  cunning  —  always  speaking  in  something  of  an 
oracular  tone  upon  the  subject  of  her  charge's  health, 
and  hinting  at  certain  mysterious  rules  necessary  to 
maintain  it  in  the  present  favourable  state.  She  had 
availed  herself  of  this  artifice  to  procure  for  herself  and 

i8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Alice  a  separate  establishment  at  the  Black  Fort;  for  it 
was  originally  Major  Bridgenorth's  resolution  that  his 
daughter  and  her  governante  should  remain  under  the 
same  roof  with  the  sister-in-law  of  his  deceased  wife, 
the  widow  of  the  unfortunate  Colonel  Christian.  But 
this  lady  was  broken  down  with  premature  age,  brought 
on  by  sorrow;  and,  in  a  short  visit  which  Major  Bridge- 
north  made  to  the  island,  he  was  easily  prevailed  on  to 
consider  her  house  at  Kirk-Truagh  as  a  very  cheerless 
residence  for  his  daughter.  Dame  Deborah,  who  longed 
for  domestic  independence,  was  careful  to  increase  this 
impression  by  alarming  her  patron's  fears  on  account  of 
Alice's  health.  The  mansion  of  Kirk-Truagh  stood,  she 
said,  much  exposed  to  the  Scottish  winds,  which  could 
not  but  be  cold,  as  they  came  from  a  country  where,  as 
she  was  assured,  there  was  ice  and  snow  at  midsummer. 
In  short,  she  prevailed,  and  was  put  into  full  possession 
of  the  Black  Fort  —  a  house  which,  as  well  as  Kirk- 
Truagh,  belonged  formerly  to  Christian,  and  now  to  his 
widow. 

Still,  however,  it  was  enjoined  on  the  governante  and 
her  charge  to  visit  Kirk-Truagh  from  time  to  time,  and 
to  consider  themselves  as  under  the  management  and 
guardianship  of  Mistress  Christian  —  a  state  of  subjec- 
tion the  sense  of  which  Deborah  endeavoured  to  lessen 
by  assuming  as  much  freedom  of  conduct  as  she  possibly 
dared,  under  the  influence,  doubtless,  of  the  same  feel- 
ings of  independence  which  induced  her,  at  Martin- 
dale  Hall,  to  spurn  the  advice  of  Mistress  Ellesmere. 

It  was  this  generous  disposition  to  defy  control  which 
induced  her  to  procure  for  Alice,  secretly,  some  means 
of  education,  which   the  stern  genius  of  Puritanism 

182 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

would  have  proscribed.  She  ventured  to  have  her  charge 
taught  music  —  nay,  even  dancing;  and  the  picture  of 
the  stern  Colonel  Christian  trembled  on  the  wainscot 
where  it  was  suspended  while  the  sylph-like  form  of 
Alice,  and  the  substantial  person  of  Dame  Deborah, 
executed  French  chaussees  and  borees,  to  the  sound  of 
a  small  kit,  which  screamed  under  the  bow  of  Monsieur 
de  Pigal,  half  smuggler,  half  dancing-master.  This 
abomination  reached  the  ears  of  the  colonel's  widow, 
and  by  her  was  communicated  to  Bridgenorth,  whose 
sudden  appearance  in  the  island  showed  the  importance 
he  attached  to  the  communication.  Had  she  been  faith- 
less to  her  own  cause,  that  had  been  the  latest  hour  of 
Mistress  Deborah's  administration.  But  she  retreated 
into  her  stronghold. 

'Dancing,'  she  said,  'was exercise,  regulated  and  timed 
by  music;  and  it  stood  to  reason  that  it  must  be  the 
best  of  all  exercise  for  a  delicate  person,  especially  as 
it  could  be  taken  within  doors,  and  in  all  states  of  the 
weather.' 

Bridgenorth  listened,  with  a  clouded  and  thoughtful 
brow,  when,  in  exemplification  of  her  doctrine.  Mistress 
Deborah,  who  was  no  contemptible  performer  on  the 
viol,  began  to  jangle  Sellenger's  round,  and  desired 
Alice  to  dance  an  old  English  measure  to  the  tune.  As 
the  half-bashful,  half-smiling  girl,  about  fourteen,  —  for 
such  was  her  age,  —  moved  gracefully  to  the  music,  the 
father's  eye  unavoidably  followed  the  light  spring  of  her 
step,  and  marked  with  joy  the  rising  colour  in  her  cheek. 
When  the  dance  was  over,  he  folded  her  in  his  arms, 
smoothed  her  somewhat  disordered  locks  with  a  father's 
affectionate  hand,  smiled,  kissed  her  brow,  and  took  his 

183 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

leave,  without  one  single  word  further  interdicting  the 
exercise  of  dancing.  He  did  not  himself  communicate 
the  result  of  his  visit  at  the  Black  Fort  to  Mistress 
Christian,  but  she  was  not  long  of  learning  it,  by  the 
triumph  of  Dame  Deborah  on  her  next  visit. 

*It  is  well,'  said  the  stern  old  lady;  *my  brother 
Bridgenorth  hath  permitted  you  to  make  a  Herodias 
of  Alice,  and  teach  her  dancing.  You  have  only  now 
to  find  her  a  partner  for  life;  I  shall  neither  meddle  nor 
make  more  in  their  affairs.' 

In  fact,  the  triumph  of  Dame  Deborah,  or  rather  of 
Dame  Nature,  on  this  occasion,  had  more  important 
effects  than  the  former  had  ventured  to  anticipate;  for 
Mistress  Christian,  though  she  received  with  all  form- 
ality the  formal  visits  of  the  governante  and  her 
charge,  seemed  thenceforth  so  pettish  with  the  issue 
of  her  remonstrance  upon  the  enormity  of  her  niece 
dancing  to  a  little  fiddle,  that  she  appeared  to  give  up 
interference  in  her  affairs,  and  left  Dame  Debbitch  and 
Alice  to  manage  both  education  and  housekeeping  — 
in  which  she  had  hitherto  greatly  concerned  herself  — 
much  after  their  own  pleasure. 

It  was  in  this  independent  state  that  they  lived,  when 
Julian  first  visited  their  habitation;  and  he  was  the 
rather  encouraged  to  do  so  by  Dame  Deborah,  that  she 
believed  him  to  be  one  of  the  last  persons  in  the  world 
with  whom  Mistress  Christian  would  have  desired  her 
niece  to  be  acquainted  —  the  happy  spirit  of  contradic- 
tion superseding,  with  Dame  Deborah,  on  this  as  on 
other  occasions,  all  consideration  of  the  fitness  of  things. 
She  did  not  act  altogether  without  precaution  neither. 
She  was  aware  she  had  to  guard  not  only  against  any 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

reviving  interest  or  curiosity  on  the  part  of  Mistress 
Christian,  but  against  the  sudden  arrival  of  Major 
Bridgenorth,  who  never  failed  once  in  the  year  to  make 
his  appearance  at  the  Black  Fort  when  least  expected, 
and  to  remain  there  for  a  few  days.  Dame  Debbitch, 
therefore,  exacted  of  Julian  that  his  visits  should  be  few 
and  far  between ;  that  he  should  condescend  to  pass  for 
a  relation  of  her  own,  in  the  eyes  of  two  ignorant  Manx 
girls  and  a  lad,  who  formed  her  establishment;  and  that 
he  should  always  appear  in  his  angler's  dress  made  of 
the  simple  lougthan,  or  buff-coloured  wool  of  the  island, 
which  is  not  subjected  to  dyeing.  By  these  cautions, 
she  thought  his  intimacy  at  the  Black  Fort  would  be 
entirely  unnoticed,  or  considered  as  immaterial,  while, 
in  the  meantime,  it  furnished  much  amusement  to  her 
charge  and  herself. 

This  was  accordingly  the  case  during  the  earlier  part 
of  their  intercourse,  while  Julian  was  a  lad  and  Alice  a 
girl  two  or  three  years  younger.  But  as  the  lad  shot  up 
to  youth  and  the  girl  to  womanhood,  even  Dame 
Deborah  Debbitch's  judgment  saw  danger  in  their 
continued  intimacy.  She  took  an  opportunity  to  com- 
municate to  Julian  who  Miss  Bridgenorth  actually  was, 
and  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  placed  discord 
between  their  fathers.  He  heard  the  story  of  their 
quarrel  with  interest  and  surprise,  for  he  had  only 
resided  occasionally  at  Martindale  Castle,  and  the  sub- 
ject of  Bridgenorth's  quarrel  with  his  father  had  never 
been  mentioned  in  his  presence.  His  imagination  caught 
fire  at  the  sparks  afforded  by  this  singular  story;  and, 
far  from  complying  with  the  prudent  remonstrance  of 
Dame  Deborah,  and  gradually  estranging  himself  from 

185 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  Black  Fort  and  its  fair  inmate,  he  frankly  declared, 
he  considered  his  intimacy  there,  so  casually  com- 
menced, as  intimating  the  will  of  Heaven  that  Alice  and 
he  were  designed  for  each  other,  in  spite  of  every  obsta- 
cle which  passion  or  prejudice  could  raise  up  betwixt 
them.  They  had  been  companions  in  infancy;  and  a 
little  exertion  of  memory  enabled  him  to  recall  his  child- 
ish grief  for  the  unexpected  and  sudden  disappearance 
of  his  little  companion,  whom  he  was  destined  again  to 
meet  with  in  the  early  bloom  of  opening  beauty,  in  a 
country  which  was  foreign  to  them  both. 

Dame  Deborah  was  confounded  at  the  consequences 
of  her  communication,  which  had  thus  blown  into  a 
flame  the  passion  which  she  hoped  it  would  have  either 
prevented  or  extinguished.  She  had  not  the  sort  of  head 
which  resists  the  masculine  and  energetic  remonstrances 
of  passionate  attachment,  whether  addressed  to  her  on 
her  own  account  or  on  behalf  of  another.  She  lamented 
and  wondered,  and  ended  her  feeble  opposition  by  weep- 
ing, and  S}'Tnpathising,  and  consenting  to  allow  the  con- 
tinuance of  Julian's  visits,  provided  he  should  only  ad- 
dress himself  to  Alice  as  a  friend;  to  gain  the  world,  she 
would  consent  to  nothing  more.  She  was  not,  however, 
so  simple,  but  that  she  also  had  her  forebodings  of  the 
designs  of  Providence  on  this  youthful  couple ;  for  cer- 
tainly they  could  not  be  more  formed  to  be  united  than 
the  good  estates  of  Martindale  and  Moultrassie. 

Then  came  a  long  sequence  of  reflections.  Martindale 
Castle  wanted  but  some  repairs  to  be  almost  equal  to 
Chatsworth.  The  hall  might  be  allowed  to  go  to  ruin; 
or,  what  would  be  better,  when  Sir  Geoffrey's  time  came, 
for  the  good  knight  had  seen  service,  and  must  be  break- 

i86 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ing  now,  the  hall  would  be  a  good  dowry-house,  to  which 
my  lady  and  Ellesmere  might  retreat;  while,  empress 
of  the  still-room  and  queen  of  the  pantry.  Mistress 
Deborah  Debbitch  should  reign  housekeeper  at  the  cas- 
tle, and  extend,  perhaps,  the  crown-matrimonial  to 
Lance  Outram,  provided  he  was  not  become  too  old,  too 
fat,  or  too  fond  of  ale. 

Such  were  the  soothing  visions  under  the  influence  of 
which  the  dame  connived  at  an  attachment  which  lulled 
also  to  pleasing  dreams,  though  of  a  character  so  differ- 
ent, her  charge  and  her  visitant. 

The  visits  of  the  young  angler  became  more  and  more 
frequent;  and  the  embarrassed  Deborah,  though  fore- 
seeing all  the  dangers  of  discovery,  and  the  additional 
risk  of  an  explanation  betwixt  Alice  and  Julian,  which 
must  necessarily  render  their  relative  situation  so  much 
more  delicate,  felt  completely  overborne  by  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  young  lover,  and  was  compelled  to  let  mat- 
ters take  their  course. 

The  departure  of  Julian  for  the  Continent  interrupted 
the  course  of  his  intimacy  at  the  Black  Fort,  and  while 
it  relieved  the  elder  of  its  inmates  from  much  internal 
apprehension,  spread  an  air  of  languor  and  dejection 
over  the  countenance  of  the  younger,  which,  at  Bridge- 
north's  next  visit  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  renewed  all  his 
terrors  for  his  daughter's  constitutional  malady. 

Deborah  promised  faithfully  she  should  look  better 
the  next  morning,  and  she  kept  her  word.  She  had  re- 
tained in  her  possession  for  some  time  a  letter  which 
Julian  had,  by  some  private  conveyance,  sent  to  her 
charge,  for  his  youthful  friend.  Deborah  had  dreaded 
the  consequences  of  delivering  it  as  a  billet-doux,  but, 

187 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  in  the  case  of  the  dance,  she  thought  there  could  be  no 
harm  in  administering  it  as  a  remedy. 

It  had  complete  effect :  and  next  day  the  cheeks  of 
the  maiden  had  a  tinge  of  the  rose,  which  so  much  de- 
lighted her  father,  that,  as  he  mounted  his  horse,  he  flung 
his  purse  into  Deborah's  hand,  with  the  desire  she  should 
spare  nothing  that  could  make  herself  and  his  daughter 
happy,  and  the  assurance  that  she  had  his  full  confidence. 

This  expression  of  liberality  and  confidence  from  a 
man  of  Major  Bridgenorth's  reserved  and  cautious  dis- 
position gave  full  plumage  to  Mistress  Deborah's  hopes; 
and  emboldened  her  not  only  to  deliver  another  letter  of 
Julian's  to  the  young  lady,  but  to  encourage  more  boldly 
and  freely  than  formerly  the  intercourse  of  the  lovers 
when  Peveril  returned  from  abroad. 

At  length,  in  spite  of  all  Julian's  precaution,  the  young 
earl  became  suspicious  of  his  frequent  solitary  fishing- 
parties;  and  he  himself,  now  better  acquainted  with  the 
world  than  formerly,  became  aware  that  his  repeated 
visits  and  solitary  walks  with  a  person  so  young  and 
beautiful  as  Alice  might  not  only  betray  prematurely  the 
secret  of  his  attachment,  but  be  of  essential  prejudice 
to  her  who  was  its  object. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  conviction,  he  abstained, 
for  an  unusual  period,  from  visiting  the  Black  Fort. 
But  when  he  next  indulged  himself  with  spending  an 
hour  in  the  place  where  he  would  gladly  have  abode  for 
ever,  the  altered  manner  of  Alice,  the  tone  in  which  she 
seemed  to  upbraid  his  neglect,  penetrated  his  heart,  and 
deprived  him  of  that  power  of  self-command  which  he 
had  hitherto  exercised  in  their  interviews.  It  required 
but  a  few  energetic  words  to  explain  to  Alice  at  once  his 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

feelings  and  to  make  her  sensible  of  the  real  nature  of 
her  own.  She  wept  plentifully,  but  her  tears  were  not  all 
of  bitterness.  She  sat  passively  still,  and  without  reply, 
while  he  explained  to  her,  with  many  an  interjection,  the 
circumstances  which  had  placed  discord  between  their 
families;  for  hitherto  all  that  she  had  known  was  that 
Master  Peveril,  belonging  to  the  household  of  the  great 
Countess  or  Lady  of  Man,  must  observe  some  precau- 
tions in  visiting  a  relative  of  the  unhappy  Colonel 
Christian.  But,  when  Julian  concluded  his  tale  with  the 
warmest  protestations  of  eternal  love, '  My  poor  father ! ' 
she  burst  forth,  'and  was  this  to  be  the  end  of  all  thy 
precautions?  This,  that  the  son  of  him  that  disgraced 
and  banished  thee  should  hold  such  language  to  your 
daughter ! ' 

'You  err,  Alice  —  you  err,'  cried  Julian  eagerly.  'That 
I  hold  this  language — that  the  son  of  Peveril  addresses 
thus  the  daughter  of  your  father  —  that  he  kneels  to  you 
for  forgiveness  of  injuries  which  passed  when  we  were 
both  infants,  shows  the  will  of  Heaven  that  in  our  affec- 
tion should  be  quenched  the  discord  of  our  parents. 
What  else  could  lead  those  who  parted  infants  on  the 
hills  of  Derbyshire  to  meet  thus  in  the  valleys  of  Man?' 

Alice,  however  new  such  a  scene,  and,  above  all,  her 
own  emotions,  might  be,  was  highly  endowed  with  that 
exquisite  dehcacy  which  is  imprinted  in  the  female  heart, 
to  give  warning  of  the  sHghtest  approach  to  impropriety 
in  a  situation  like  hers. 

'Rise  —  rise.  Master  Peveril,'  she  said;  'do  not  do 
yourself  and  me  this  injustice;  we  have  done  both 
wrong  —  very  wrong;  but  my  fault  was  done  in  ignor- 
ance.   0  God!  my  poor  father,  who  needs  comfort  so 

189 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

much  —  is  it  for  me  to  add  to  his  misfortunes?  Rise!' 
she  added,  more  firmly;  'if  you  retain  this  unbecoming 
posture  any  longer,  I  will  leave  the  room,  and  you  shall 
never  see  me  more.' 

The  commanding  tone  of  Alice  overawed  the  impetu- 
osity of  her  lover,  who  took  in  silence  a  seat  removed  to 
some  distance  from  hers,  and  was  again  about  to  speak. 
'Julian,'  she  said,  in  a  milder  tone,  'you  have  spoken 
enough,  and  more  than  enough.  Would  you  had  left  me 
in  the  pleasing  dream  in  which  I  could  have  listened  to 
you  for  ever !  but  the  hour  of  wakening  is  arrived.'  Pev- 
eril  waited  the  prosecution  of  her  speech  as  a  criminal 
while  he  waits  his  doom ;  for  he  was  sufficiently  sensible 
that  an  answer,  delivered  not  certainly  without  emo- 
tion, but  with  firmness  and  resolution,  was  not  to  be  in- 
terrupted. 'We  have  done  wrong,'  she  repeated  — 
'very  wrong;  and  if  we  now  separate  for  ever,  the  pain 
we  may  feel  will  be  but  a  just  penalty  for  our  error.  We 
should  never  have  met.  Meeting,  we  should  part  as  soon 
as  possible.  Our  further  intercourse  can  but  double  our 
pain  at  parting.  Farewell,  Julian;  and  forget  we  ever 
have  seen  each  other ! ' 

'Forget!'  said  Julian;  'never  —  never.  To  you  it  is 
easy  to  speak  the  word  —  to  think  the  thought.  To  we, 
an  approach  to  either  can  only  be  by  utter  destruction. 
Why  should  you  doubt  that  the  feud  of  our  fathers,  Hke 
so  many  of  which  we  have  heard,  might  be  appeased 
by  our  friendship?  You  are  my  only  friend.  I  am  the 
only  one  whom  Heaven  has  assigned  to  you.  Why 
should  we  separate  for  the  fault  of  others,  which  befell 
when  we  were  but  children?' 

'You  speak  in  vain,  Julian,'  said  Alice.  'I  pity  you; 
190 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

perhaps  I  pity  myself.  Indeed,  I  should  pity  myself, 
perhaps,  the  most  of  the  two ;  for  you  will  go  forth  to  new 
scenes  and  new  faces,  and  will  soon  forget  me;  but  I, 
remaining  in  this  solitude,  how  shall  /  forget?  That, 
however,  is  not  now  the  question.  I  can  bear  my  lot,  and 
it  commands  us  to  part.' 

'  Hear  me  yet  a  moment,'  said  Peveril ; '  this  evil  is  not. 
cannot  be,  remediless.  I  will  go  to  my  father  —  I  will 
use  the  intercession  of  my  mother,  to  whom  he  can  refuse 
nothing  —  I  will  gain  their  consent  —  they  have  no 
other  child  —  and  they  must  consent,  or  lose  him  for 
ever.  Say,  Alice,  if  I  come  to  you  with  my  parents'  con- 
sent to  my  suit,  will  you  again  say,  with  that  tone  so 
touching  and  so  sad,  yet  so  incredibly  determined  — 
"Julian,  we  must  part"?'  Alice  was  silent.  'Cruel 
girl,  will  you  not  even  deign  to  answer  me?'  said  her 
lover. 

'We  answer  not  those  who  speak  in  their  dreams,'  said 
Alice.  'You  ask  me  what  I  would  do  were  impossibil- 
ities performed.  What  right  have  you  to  make  such  sup- 
positions, and  ask  such  a  question? ' 

'Hope,  Alice  —  hope,'  answered  Julian,  'the  last  sup- 
port of  the  wretched,  which  even  you  surely  would  not 
be  cruel  enough  to  deprive  me  of.  In  every  difficulty,  in 
every  doubt,  in  every  danger,  Hope  will  fight  even  if  he 
cannot  conquer.  Tell  me  once  more,  if  I  come  to  you  in 
the  name  of  my  father  —  in  the  name  of  that  mother  to 
whom  you  partly  owe  your  life  —  what  would  you 
answer  to  me?' 

*I  would  refer  you  to  my  own  father,'  said  Alice, 
blushing,  and  casting  her  eyes  down ;  but  instantly  rais- 
ing them  again,  she  repeated,  in  a  firmer  and  a  sadder 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tone  —  'yes,  Julian,  I  would  refer  you  to  my  father; 
and  you  would  find  that  your  pilot,  Hope,  had  deceived 
you,  and  that  you  had  but  escaped  the  quicksands  to 
fall  upon  the  rocks.' 

' I  would  that  could  be  tried ! '  said  Julian.  '  Methinks 
I  could  persuade  your  father  that  in  ordinary  eyes  our 
alliance  is  not  undesirable.  My  family  have  fortune, 
rank,  long  descent  —  all  that  fathers  look  for  when  they 
bestow  a  daughter's  hand.' 

'All  this  would  avail  you  nothing,'  said  Alice.  'The 
spirit  of  my  father  is  bent  upon  the  things  of  another 
world ;  and  if  he  hstened  to  hear  you  out,  it  would  be  but 
to  tell  you  that  he  spurned  your  offers.' 

'You  know  not  —  you  know  not,  Alice,'  said  Julian. 
'Fire  can  soften  iron:  thy  father's  heart  cannot  be  so 
hard,  or  his  prejudices  so  strong,  but  I  shall  find  some 
means  to  melt  him.  Forbid  me  not  —  0  forbid  me  not 
at  least  the  experiment ! ' 

'I  can  but  advise,'  said  Alice;  'I  can  forbid  you  no- 
thing; for  to  forbid  implies  power  to  command  obedi- 
ence. But  if  you  will  be  wise  and  Hsten  to  me — here,  and 
on  this  spot,  we  part  for  ever ! ' 

'Not  so,  by  Heaven!'  said  Julian,  whose  bold  and 
sanguine  temper  scarce  saw  difficulty  in  attaining  aught 
which  he  desired.  'We  now  part  indeed,  but  it  is  that  I 
may  return  armed  with  my  parents'  consent.  They  de- 
sire that  I  should  marry  —  in  their  last  letters  they 
pressed  it  more  openly  —  they  shall  have  their  desire ;  and 
such  a  bride  as  I  will  present  to  them  has  not  graced  their 
house  since  the  Conqueror  gave  it  origin.  Farewell, 
Alice!  —  farewell,  for  a  brief  space!' 

She  replied,  'Farewell,  Julian!  —  farewell  for  ever!' 
192 


V 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Julian,  within  a  week  of  this  interview,  was  at  Mar- 
tindale  Castle,  with  the  view  of  communicating  his  pur- 
pose. But  the  task  which  seems  easy  at  a  distance  proves 
as  difl&cult  upon  a  nearer  approach  as  the  fording  of  a 
river  which  from  afar  appeared  only  a  brook.  There 
lacked  not  opportunities  of  entering  upon  the  subject; 
for,  in  the  first  ride  which  he  took  with  his  father,  the 
knight  resumed  the  subject  of  his  son's  marriage,  and 
liberally  left  the  lady  to  his  choice ;  but  under  the  strict 
proviso,  that  she  was  of  a  loyal  and  an  honourable  fam- 
ily; if  she  had  fortune,  it  was  good  and  well,  or  rather,  it 
was  better  than  well ;  but  if  she  was  poor,  why,  '  There 
is  still  some  picking,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  'on  the  bones  of 
the  old  estate;  and  Dame  Margaret  and  I  will  be  content 
with  the  less,  that  you  young  folks  may  have  your  share 
of  it.  I  am  turned  frugal  already,  Julian.  You  see  what 
a  north-country  shambling  bit  of  a  Galloway  nag  I  ride 
upon  —  a  different  beast,  I  wot,  from  my  own  old  Black 
Hastings,  who  had  but  one  fault,  and  that  was  his  wish 
to  turn  down  Moultrassie  avenue.' 

'Was  that  so  great  a  fault?'  said  Julian,  affecting  in- 
difference, while  his  heart  was  trembling,  as  it  seemed  to 
him,  almost  in  his  very  throat. 

'It  used  to  remind  me  of  that  base,  dishonourable 
Presbyterian  fellow,  Bridgenorth,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey; 
'and  I  would  as  lief  think  of  a  toad.  They  say  he  has 
turned  Independent,  to  accomplish  the  full  degree  of 
rascality.  I  tell  you,  Gil,  I  turned  off  the  cow-boy  for 
gathering  nuts  in  his  woods.  I  would  hang  a  dog  that 
would  so  much  as  kill  a  hare  there.  But  what  is  the 
matter  with  you?    You  look  pale.' 

Julian  made  some  indifferent  answer,  but  too  well 
«7  193 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

understood,  from  the  language  and  tone  which  his  father 
used,  that  his  prejudices  against  Alice's  father  were  both 
deep  and  envenomed,  as  those  of  country  gentlemen 
often  become,  who,  having  little  to  do  or  think  of,  are 
but  too  apt  to  spend  their  time  in  nursing  and  cherish- 
ing petty  causes  of  wrath  against  their  next  neighbours. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  day,  he  mentioned  the 
Bridgenorths  to  his  mother,  as  if  in  a  casual  manner. 
But  the  Lady  Peveril  instantly  conjured  him  never 
to  mention  the  name,  especially  in  his  father's  presence. 

'Was  that  Major  Bridgenorth,  of  whom  I  have  heard 
the  name  mentioned,'  said  Julian,  *so  very  bad  a  neigh- 
bour?' 

*I  do  not  say  so,'  said  Lady  Peveril;  'nay,  we  were 
more  than  once  obliged  to  him,  in  the  former  unhappy 
times;  but  your  father  and  he  took  some  passages  so 
ill  at  each  other's  hands,  that  the  least  allusion  to  him 
disturbs  Sir  Geoffrey's  temper  in  a  manner  quite  unusual, 
and  which,  now  that  his  health  is  somewhat  impaired, 
is  sometimes  alarming  to  me.  For  Heaven's  sake,  then, 
my  dear  Julian,  avoid  upon  all  occasions  the  slightest 
allusion  to  Moultrassie  or  any  of  its  inhabitants.' 

This  warning  was  so  seriously  given,  that  Julian  him- 
self saw  that  mentioning  his  secret  purpose  would  be  the 
sure  way  to  render  it  abortive,  and  therefore  he  returned 
disconsolate  to  the  isle. 

Peveril  had  the  boldness,  however,  to  make  the  best 
he  could  of  what  had  happened,  by  requesting  an  inter- 
view with  Alice,  in  order  to  inform  her  what  had  passed 
betwixt  his  parents  and  him  on  her  account.  It  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  this  boon  was  obtained;  and  Alice 
Bridgenorth  showed  no  slight  degree  of  displeasure  when 

194 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

she  discovered,  after  much  circumlocution,  and  many 
efforts  to  give  an  air  of  importance  to  what  he  had  to 
communicate,  that  all  amounted  but  to  this,  that  Lady 
Peveril  continued  to  retain  a  favourable  opinion  of 
her  father,  Major  Bridgenorth,  which  Julian  would  fain 
have  represented  as  an  omen  of  their  future  more  per- 
fect reconciliation. 

'  I  did  not  think  you  would  thus  have  trifled  with  me. 
Master  Peveril,'  said  Alice,  assuming  an  air  of  dignity; 
'but  I  will  take  care  to  avoid  such  intrusion  in  future. 
I  request  you  will  not  again  visit  the  Black  Fort;  and  I 
entreat  of  you,  good  Mistress  Debbitch,  that  you  will  no 
longer  either  encourage  or  permit  this  gentleman's  visits, 
as  the  result  of  such  persecution  will  be  to  compel  me 
to  appeal  to  my  aunt  and  father  for  another  place  of 
residence,  and  perhaps  also  for  another  and  more  pru- 
dent companion.' 

This  last  hint  struck  Mistress  Deborah  with  so  much 
terror,  that  she  joined  her  ward  in  requiring  and  de- 
manding Julian's  instant  absence,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  comply  with  their  request.  But  the  courage  of  a 
youthful  lover  is  not  easily  subdued;  and  Julian,  after 
having  gone  through  the  usual  round  of  trying  to  forget 
his  ungrateful  mistress,  and  again  entertaining  his  pas- 
sion with  augmented  violence,  ended  by  the  visit  to  the 
Black  Fort  the  beginning  of  which  we  narrated  in  the 
last  chapter. 

We  then  left  him  anxious  for,  yet  almost  fearful  of,  an 
interview  with  Alice,  which  he  had  prevailed  upon 
Deborah  to  solicit;  and  such  was  the  tumult  of  his  mind, 
that,  while  he  traversed  the  parlour,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  the  dark,  melancholy  eyes  of  the  slaughtered  Christ- 

195 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lan's  portrait  followed  him  wherever  he  went,  wdth  the 
fixed,  chill,  and  ominous  glance  which  announced  to  the 
enemy  of  his  race  mishap  and  misfortune. 

The  door  of  the  apartment  opened  at  length,  and 
these  visions  were  dissipated. 


I 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Parents  have  flinty  hearts!  No  tears  can  move  them. 


Otway. 


When  Alice  Bridgenorth  at  length  entered  the  parlour 
where  her  anxious  lover  had  so  long  expected  her,  it  was 
with  a  slow  step  and  a  composed  manner.  Her  dress 
was  arranged  with  an  accurate  attention  to  form,  which 
at  once  enhanced  the  appearance  of  its  Puritanic  sim- 
plicity and  struck  Julian  as  a  bad  omen ;  for  although 
the  time  bestowed  upon  the  toilet  may,  in  many  cases, 
intimate  the  wish  to  appear  advantageously  at  such  an 
interview,  yet  a  ceremonious  arrangement  of  attire  is 
very  much  allied  with  formality,  and  a  preconceived 
determination  to  treat  a  lover  with  cold  politeness. 

The  sad-coloured  gown,  the  pinched  and  plaited  cap, 
which  carefully  obscured  the  profusion  of  long  dark- 
brown  hair,  the  small  ruff,  and  the  long  sleeves,  would 
have  appeared  to  great  disadvantage  on  a  shape  less 
graceful  than  Alice  Bridgenorth's;  but  an  exquisite 
form,  though  not,  as  yet,  sufficiently  rounded  in  the  out- 
lines to  produce  the  perfection  of  female  beauty,  was 
able  to  sustain  and  give  grace  even  to  this  unbecoming 
dress.  Her  countenance,  fair  and  delicate,  with  eyes  of 
hazel,  and  a  brow  of  alabaster,  had,  notwithstanding, 
less  regular  beauty  than  her  form,  and  might  have  been 
justly  subjected  to  criticism.  There  was,  however,  a  life 
and  spirit  in  her  gaiety,  and  a  depth  of  sentiment  in  her 
gravity,  which  made  Alice,  in  conversation  with  the  very 

197 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

few  persons  with  whom  she  associated,  so  fascinating  in 
her  manners  and  expression,  whether  of  language  or 
countenance,  so  touching  also  in  her  simplicity  and 
purity  of  thought,  that  brighter  beauties  might  have 
been  overlooked  in  her  company.  It  was  no  wonder, 
therefore,  that  an  ardent  character  like  Julian,  influ- 
enced by  these  charms,  as  well  as  by  the  secrecy  and 
mystery  attending  his  intercourse  with  Alice,  should 
prefer  the  recluse  of  the  Black  Fort  to  all  others 
with  whom  he  had  become  acquainted  in  general 
society. 

His  heart  beat  high  as  she  came  into  the  apartment, 
and  it  was  almost  without  an  attempt  to  speak  that  his 
profound  obeisance  acknowledged  her  entrance. 

'This  is  a  mockery.  Master  Peveril,'  said  Alice,  with 
an  effort  to  speak  firmly,  which  yet  was  disconcerted  by 
a  slightly  tremulous  inflection  of  voice  —  *  a  mockery, 
and  a  cruel  one.  You  come  to  this  lone  place,  inhabited 
only  by  two  women,  too  simple  to  command  your  ab- 
sence, too  weak  to  enforce  it;  you  come  in  spite  of  my 
earnest  request,  to  the  neglect  of  your  own  time,  to  the 
prejudice,  I  may  fear,  of  my  character;  you  abuse  the 
influence  you  possess  over  the  simple  person  to  whom 
I  am  entrusted  —  all  this  you  do,  and  think  to  make 
it  up  by  low  reverences  and  constrained  courtesy!  Is 
this  honourable,  or  is  it  fair?  Is  it,'  she  added,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation  —  'is  it  kind?' 

The  tremulous  accent  fell  especially  on  the  last  word 
she  uttered,  and  it  was  spoken  in  a  low  tone  of  gentle 
reproach,  which  went  to  Julian's  heart. 

*  If,'  said  he,  *  there  were  a  mode  by  which,  at  the  peril 
of  my  life,  Alice,  I  could  show  my  regard  —  my  respect 

198 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

—  my  devoted  tenderness  —  the  danger  would  be  dearer 
to  me  than  ever  was  pleasure.' 

'You  have  said  such  things  often,'  said  Alice,  'and 
they  are  such  as  I  ought  not  to  hear,  and  do  not  desire  to 
hear.  I  have  no  tasks  to  impose  on  you  —  no  enemies 
to  be  destroyed  —  no  need  or  desire  of  protection  — 
no  wish,  Heaven  knows,  to  expose  you  to  danger.  It  is 
your  visits  here  alone  to  which  danger  attaches.  You 
have  but  to  rule  your  own  wilful  temper  —  to  turn  your 
thoughts  and  your  cares  elsewhere,  and  I  can  have  no- 
thing to  ask  —  nothing  to  wish  for.  Use  your  own  rea- 
son —  consider  the  injury  you  do  yourself  —  the  injust- 
ice you  do  us  —  and  let  me,  once  more,  in  fair  terms, 
entreat  you  to  absent  yourself  from  this  place  —  till  — 
till—' 

She  paused,  and  Julian  eagerly  interrupted  her.  'Till 
when,  Alice?  —  till  when?  Impose  on  me  any  length  of 
absence  which  your  severity  can  inflict,  short  of  a  final 
separation.  Say,  "Begone  for  years,  but  return  when 
these  years  are  over";  and,  slow  and  wearily  as  they 
must  pass  away,  still  the  thought  that  they  must  at 
length  have  their  period  will  enable  me  to  live  through 
them.  Let  me,  then,  conjure  thee,  Alice,  to  name  a 
date  —  to  fix  a  term  —  to  say  till  when  I ' 

'  Till  you  can  bear  to  think  of  me  only  as  a  friend  and 
sister.' 

'That  is  a  sentence  of  eternal  banishment  indeed!' 
said  Julian;  'it  is  seeming,  no  doubt,  to  fix  a  term  of  ex- 
ile, but  attaching  to  it  an  impossible  condition.' 

'And  why  impossible,  Julian?'  said  Alice,  in  a  tone  of 
persuasion.  'Were  we  not  happier  ere  you  threw  the 
mask  from  your  own  countenance,  and  tore  the  veil 

199 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

from  my  foolish  eyes?  Did  we  not  meet  with  Joy,  spend 
our  time  happily,  and  part  cheerily,  because  we  trans- 
gressed no  duty,  and  incurred  no  self-reproach?  Bring 
back  that  state  of  happy  ignorance,  and  you  shall  have 
no  reason  to  call  me  unkind.  But  while  you  form 
schemes  which  I  know  to  be  visionary,  and  use  language 
of  such  violence  and  passion,  you  shall  excuse  me  if  I 
now,  and  once  for  all,  declare  that,  since  Deborah  shows 
herself  unfit  for  the  trust  reposed  in  her,  and  must  needs 
expose  me  to  persecutions  of  this  nature,  I  will  write  to 
my  father,  that  he  may  fix  me  another  place  of  residence; 
and  in  the  meanwhile  I  will  take  shelter  with  my  aunt 
at  Kirk-Truagh.' 

'Hear  me,  unpitying  girl,'  said  Peveril  —  'hear  me, 
and  you  shall  see  how  devoted  I  am  to  obedience  in  all 
that  I  can  do  to  oblige  you!  You  say  you  were  happy 
when  we  spoke  not  on  such  topics  —  well,  at  all  expense 
of  my  own  suppressed  feelings,  that  happy  period  shall 
return.  I  will  meet  you  —  walk  with  you  —  read  with 
you  —  but  only  as  a  brother  would  with  his  sister  or  a 
friend  with  his  friend;  the  thoughts  I  may  nourish,  be 
they  of  hope  or  of  despair,  my  tongue  shall  not  give  birth 
to,  and  therefore  I  cannot  offend;  Deborah  shall  be  ever 
by  your  side,  and  her  presence  shall  prevent  my  even 
hinting  at  what  might  displease  you  —  only  do  not  make 
a  crime  to  me  of  those  thoughts  which  are  the  dearest 
part  of  my  existence;  for,  believe  me,  it  were  better  and 
kinder  to  rob  me  of  existence  itself.' 

'This  is  the  mere  ecstasy  of  passion,  Julian,'  answered 
Alice  Bridgenorth;  'that  which  is  unpleasant,  our  selfish 
and  stubborn  will  represents  as  impossible.  I  have  no 
confidence  in  the  plan  you  propose  —  no  confidence  in 

200 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

your  resolution,  and  less  than  none  in  the  protection  of 
Deborah.  Till  you  can  renounce,  honestly  and  explic- 
itly, the  wishes  you  have  lately  expressed,  we  must  be 
strangers;  and  could  you  renounce  them  even  at  this 
moment,  it  were  better  that  we  should  part  for  a  long 
time;  and,  for  Heaven's  sake,  let  it  be  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible; perhaps  it  is  even  now  too  late  to  prevent  some 
unpleasant  accident  —  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise.' 

'It  was  Deborah,'  answered  Julian.  *  Be  not  afraid, 
Alice;  we  are  secure  against  surprise.' 

'I  know  not,'  said  Alice,  'what  you  mean  by  such 
security.  I  have  nothing  to  hide.  I  sought  not  this  in- 
terview; on  the  contrary,  averted  it  as  long  as  I  could, 
and  am  now  most  desirous  to  break  it  off.' 

'And  wherefore,  Ahce,  since  you  say  it  must  be  our 
last?  Why  should  you  shake  the  sand  which  is  passing 
so  fast?  The  very  executioner  hurries  not  the  prayers  of 
the  wretches  upon  the  scaffold.  And  see  you  not  —  I 
will  argue  as  coldly  as  you  can  desire  —  see  you  not  that 
you  are  breaking  your  own  word,  and  recalling  the  hope 
which  yourself  held  out  to  me?' 

'What  hope  have  I  suggested?  What  word  have  I 
given,  Julian?  '  answered  Alice.  'You  yourself  build  wild 
hopes  in  the  air,  and  accuse  me  of  destroying  what 
had  never  any  earthly  foundation.  Spare  yourself, 
Julian  —  spare  me  —  and  in  mercy  to  us  both  depart, 
and  return  not  again  till  you  can  be  more  reasonable.' 

'Reasonable!'  replied  Julian;  'it  is  you,  Alice,  who 
will  deprive  me  altogether  of  reason.  Did  you  not  say 
that,  if  our  parents  could  be  brought  to  consent  to  our 
union,  you  would  no  longer  oppose  my  suit? ' 

'No  —  no  —  no,'  said  Alice,  eagerly,  and  blushing 

20I 

^mh  mmm  sm  coiiese  umkh 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

deeply  —  '  I  did  not  say  so,  Julian;  it  was  your  own  wild 
imagination  which  put  construction  on  my  silence  and 
my  confusion.' 

'You  do  not  say  so,  then?'  answered  Julian;  'and  if 
all  other  obstacles  were  removed,  I  should  find  one  in 
the  cold,  flinty  bosom  of  her  who  repays  the  most  de- 
voted and  sincere  affection  with  contempt  and  disHke? 
Is  that,'  he  added,  in  a  deep  tone  of  feeHng  —  'is  that 
what  Alice  Bridgenorth  says  to  Julian  Peveril?' 

'Indeed  —  indeed,  Julian,'  said  the  almost  weeping 
girl,  'I  do  not  say  so  —  I  say  nothing,  and  I  ought  not 
to  say  anything,  concerning  what  I  might  do  in  a  state 
of  things  which  can  never  take  place.  Indeed,  JuHan, 
you  ought  not  thus  to  press  me.  Unprotected  as  I  am  — 
wishing  you  well  —  very  well  —  why  should  you  urge 
me  to  say  or  do  what  would  lessen  me  in  my  own  eyes? 
to  own  affection  for  one  from  whom  fate  has  separated 
me  for  ever?  It  is  ungenerous  —  it  is  cruel  —  it  is 
seeking  a  momentary  and  selfish  gratification  to  your- 
self at  the  expense  of  every  feeling  which  I  ought  to 
entertain.' 

'You  have  said  enough,  Alice,'  said  JuHan,  with 
sparkling  eyes  —  '  you  have  said  enough  in  deprecating 
my  urgency,  and  I  will  press  you  no  further.  But  you 
overrate  the  impediments  which  he  betwixt  us;  they 
must  and  shall  give  way.' 

'So  you  said  before,'  answered  Alice,  'and  with  what 
probability,  your  own  account  may  show.  You  dared  not 
to  mention  the  subject  to  your  own  father;  how  should 
you  venture  to  mention  it  to  mine? ' 

'That  I  will  soon  enable  you  to  decide  upon.  Major 
Bridgenorth,  by  my  mother's  account,  is  a  worthy  and 

202 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

an  estimable  man.  I  will  remind  him  that  to  my  mo- 
ther's care  he  owes  the  dearest  treasure  and  comfort  of 
his  life;  and  I  will  ask  him  if  it  is  a  just  retribution  to 
make  that  mother  childless.  Let  me  but  know  where 
to  find  him,  Alice,  and  you  shall  hear  if  I  have  feared 
to  plead  my  cause  with  him.' 

'Alas!'  answered  Alice,  'you  well  know  my  uncer- 
tainty as  to  my  dear  father's  residence.  How  often  has 
it  been  my  earnest  request  to  him  that  he  would  let  me 
share  his  solitary  abode  or  his  obscure  wanderings !  But 
the  short  and  infrequent  visits  which  he  makes  to  this 
house  are  all  that  he  permits  me  of  his  society.  Some- 
thing I  might  surely  do,  however  Httle,  to  alleviate  the 
melancholy  by  which  he  is  oppressed.' 

'Something  we  might  both  do,'  said  Peveril.  'How 
willingly  would  I  aid  you  in  so  pleasing  a  task !  All  old 
griefs  should  be  forgotten  —  all  old  friendships  revived. 
My  father's  prejudices  are  those  of  an  Englishman  — 
strong,  indeed,  but  not  insurmountable  by  reason.  Tell 
me,  then,  where  Major  Bridgenorth  is,  and  leave  the 
rest  to  me;  or  let  me  but  know  by  what  address  your 
letters  reach  him,  and  I  will  forthwith  essay  to  discover 
his  dwelling.' 

'Do  not  attempt  it,  I  charge  you,'  said  Alice.  *Heis 
already  a  man  of  sorrows;  and  what  would  he  think  were 
I  capable  of  entertaining  a  suit  so  likely  to  add  to  them? 
Besides,  I  could  not  tell  you  if  I  would  where  he  is  now 
to  be  found.  My  letters  reach  him  from  time  to  time 
by  means  of  my  aunt  Christian ;  but  of  his  address  I  am 
entirely  ignorant.' 

'Then,  by  Heaven,'  answered  Julian,  'I  will  watch  his 
arrival  in  this  island  and  in  this  house;  and  ere  he  has 

203 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

locked  thee  in  his  arms  he  shall  answer  to  me  on  the  sub- 
ject of  my  suit.' 

'Then  demand  that  answer  now,'  said  a  voice  from 
without  the  door,  which  was  at  the  same  time  slowly 
opened  —  '  demand  that  answer  now,  for  here  stands 
Ralph  Bridgenorth.' 

As  he  spoke,  he  entered  the  apartment  with  his  usual 
slow  and  sedate  step,  raised  his  flapped  and  steeple- 
crowned  hat  from  his  brows,  and,  standing  in  the  midst 
of  the  room,  eyed  alternately  his  daughter  and  Julian 
Peveril  with  a  fixed  and  penetrating  glance. 

'Father!'  said  Alice,  utterly  astonished,  and  terrified 
besides,  by  his  sudden  appearance  at  such  a  conjuncture 
—  'father,  I  am  not  to  blame.' 

'Of  that  anon,  Alice,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'meantime, 
retire  to  your  apartment.  I  have  that  to  say  to  this 
youth  which  will  not  endure  your  presence.' 

'Indeed  —  indeed,  father,'  said  Alice,  alarmed  at 
what  she  supposed  these  words  indicated,  'Julian  is  as 
little  to  be  blamed  as  I !  It  was  chance  —  it  was  fortune, 
which  caused  our  meeting  together.'  Then  suddenly 
rushing  forward,  she  threw  her  arms  around  her  father, 
saying,  'O  do  him  no  injury;  he  meant  me  no  wrong! 
Father,  you  were  wont  to  be  a  man  of  reason  and  of 
religious  peace.' 

'And  wherefore  should  I  not  be  so  now,  Alice?'  said 
Bridgenorth,  raising  his  daughter  from  the  ground,  on 
which  she  had  almost  sunk  in  the  earnestness  of  her  sup- 
plication. 'Dost  thou  know  aught,  maiden,  which  should 
inflame  my  anger  against  this  young  man  more  than 
reason  or  religion  may  bridle?  Go  —  go  to  thy  cham- 
ber.  Compose  thine  own  passions:  learn  to  rule  these, 

204 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  leave  it  to  me  to  deal  with  this  stubborn  young 
man.' 

Alice  arose,  and,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground, 
retired  slowly  from  the  apartment.  Julian  followed  her 
steps  with  his  eyes  till  the  last  wave  of  her  garment  was 
visible  at  the  closing  door;  then  turned  his  looks  to  Ma- 
jor Bridgenorth,  and  then  sunk  them  on  the  ground. 
The  major  continued  to  regard  him  in  profound  silence; 
his  looks  were  melancholy  and  even  austere;  but  there 
was  nothing  which  indicated  either  agitation  or  keen 
resentment.  He  motioned  to  Julian  to  take  a  seat,  and 
assumed  one  himself;  after  which  he  opened  the  con- 
versation in  the  following  manner:  — 

'You  seemed  but  now,  young  gentleman,  anxious  to 
learn  where  I  was  to  be  found.  Such  I  at  least  conjec- 
tured from  the  few  expressions  which  I  chanced  to  over- 
hear; for  I  made  bold,  though  it  may  be  contrary  to  the 
code  of  modern  courtesy,  to  listen  a  moment  or  two  in 
order  to  gather  upon  what  subject  so  young  a  man  as 
you  entertained  so  young  a  woman  as  Alice  in  a  private 
interview.' 

*  I  trust,  sir,'  said  Julian,  rallying  spirits  in  what  he  felt 
to  be  a  case  of  extremity,  *  you  have  heard  nothing  on 
my  part  which  has  given  offence  to  a  gentleman  whom, 
though  unknown,  I  am  bound  to  respect  so  highly.' 

*0n  the  contrary,'  said  Bridgenorth,  with  the  same 
formal  gravity, '  I  am  pleased  to  find  that  your  business 
is,  or  appears  to  be,  with  me,  rather  than  with  my  daugh- 
ter. I  only  think  you  had  done  better  to  have  entrusted 
it  to  me  in  the  first  instance,  as  my  sole  concern.' 

The  utmost  sharpness  of  attention  which  Julian  ap- 
plied could  not  discover  if  Bridgenorth  spoke  seriously 

205 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

or  ironically  to  the  above  purpose.  He  was,  however, 
quick-witted  beyond  his  experience,  and  was  internally 
determined  to  endeavour  to  discover  something  of  the 
character  and  the  temper  of  him  with  whom  he  spoke. 
For  that  purpose,  regulating  his  reply  in  the  same  tone 
with  Bridgenorth's  observation,  he  said  that,  not  having 
the  advantage  to  know  his  place  of  residence,  he  had 
applied  for  information  to  his  daughter. 

'Who  is  now  known  to  you  for  the  first  time?'  said 
Bridgenorth.     'Am  I  so  to  understand  you?' 

'By  no  means,'  answered  Julian,  looking  down;  'I 
have  been  known  to  your  daughter  for  many  years;  and 
what  I  wished  to  say  respects  both  her  happiness  and 
my  own.' 

'I  must  understand  you,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'even  as 
carnal  men  understand  each  other  on  the  matters  of  this 
world.  You  are  attached  to  my  daughter  by  the  cords 
of  love;  I  have  long  known  this.' 

'You,  Master  Bridgenorth?'  exclaimed  Peveril  — 
^you  have  long  known  it?' 

'  Yes,  young  man.  Think  you  that,  as  the  father  of  an 
only  child,  I  could  have  suffered  Alice  Bridgenorth  — 
the  only  living  pledge  of  her  who  is  now  an  angel  in 
Heaven  —  to  have  remained  in  this  seclusion  without 
the  surest  knowledge  of  all  her  material  actions?  I  have, 
in  person,  seen  more  both  of  her  and  of  you  than  you 
could  be  aware  of ;  and  when  absent  in  the  body,  I  had 
the  means  of  maintaining  the  same  superintendence. 
Young  man,  they  say  that  such  love  as  you  entertain  for 
my  daughter  teaches  much  subtilty;  but  believe  not 
that  it  can  overreach  the  afifection  which  a  widowed 
father  bears  to  an  only  child.' 

206 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'If,'  said  Julian,  his  heart  beating  thick  and  joy- 
fully—  *if  you  have  known  this  intercourse  so  long, 
may  I  not  hope  that  it  has  not  met  your  disapprob- 
ation?' 

The  major  paused  for  an  instant,  and  then  answered, 
'In  some  respects,  certainly  not.  Had  it  done  so  —  had 
there  seemed  aught  on  your  side  or  on  my  daughter's  to 
have  rendered  your  visits  here  dangerous  to  her  or  dis- 
pleasing to  me  —  she  had  not  been  long  the  inhabitant 
of  this  solitude,  or  of  this  island.  But  be  not  so  hasty  as 
to  presume  that  all  which  you  may  desire  in  this  matter 
can  be  either  easily  or  speedily  accomplished.' 

'I  foresee,  indeed,  difficulties,'  answered  Julian; 
but,  'with  your  kind  acquiescence,  they  are  such  as  I 
trust  to  remove.  My  father  is  generous;  my  mother  is 
candid  and  liberal.  They  loved  you  once;  I  trust  they 
will  love  you  again.  I  will  be  the  mediator  betwixt 
you;  peace  and  harmony  shall  once  more  inhabit  our 
neighbourhood,  and  — ' 

Bridgenorth  interrupted  him  with  a  grim  smile;  for 
such  it  seemed,  as  it  passed  over  a  face  of  deep  melan- 
choly. 'My  daughter  well  said,  but  short  while  past, 
that  you  were  a  dreamer  of  dreams  —  an  architect  of 
plans  and  hopes  fantastic  as  the  visions  of  the  night.  It 
is  a  great  thing  you  ask  of  me  —  the  hand  of  my  only 
child  —  the  sum  of  my  worldly  substance,  though  that 
is  but  dross  in  comparison.  You  ask  the  key  of  the  only 
fountain  from  which  I  may  yet  hope  to  drink  one  pleas- 
ant draught ;  you  ask  to  be  the  sole  and  absolute  keeper 
of  my  earthly  happiness;  and  what  have  you  offered,  or 
what  have  you  to  offer,  in  return  of  the  surrender  you 
require  of  me?' 

207 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'I  am  but  too  sensible,'  said  Peveril,  abashed  at  his 
own  hasty  conclusions,  'how  difficult  it  may  be.' 

'Nay,  but  interrupt  me  not,'  replied  Bridgenorth, 
'till  I  show  you  the  amount  of  what  you  offer  me  in 
exchange  for  a  boon  which,  whatever  may  be  its  intrinsic 
value,  is  earnestly  desired  by  you,  and  comprehends  all 
that  is  valuable  on  earth  which  I  have  it  in  my  power  to 
bestow.  You  may  have  heard  that  in  the  late  times  I  was 
the  antagonist  of  your  father's  principles  and  his  pro- 
fane faction,  but  not  the  enemy  of  his  person.' 

'I  have  ever  heard,'  replied  Julian,  'much  the  con- 
trary ;  and  it  was  but  now  that  I  reminded  you  that  you 
had  been  his  friend.' 

'Ay.  When  he  was  in  afHiction  and  I  in  prosperity,  I 
was  neither  unwilling  nor  altogether  unable  to  show 
myself  such.  Well,  the  tables  are  turned  —  the  times 
are  changed.  A  peaceful  and  unoffending  man  might 
have  expected  from  a  neighbour,  now  powerful  in  his 
turn,  such  protection,  when  walking  in  the  paths  of  the 
law,  as  all  men,  subjects  of  the  same  realm,  have  a  right 
to  expect  even  from  perfect  strangers.  What  chances? 
I  pursue,  with  the  warrant  of  the  king  and  law,  a  mur- 
deress, bearing  on  her  hand  the  blood  of  my  near  con- 
nexion, and  I  had,  in  such  a  case,  a  right  to  call  on  every 
liege  subject  to  render  assistance  to  the  execution.  My 
late  friendly  neighbour,  bound,  as  a  man  and  a  magis- 
trate, to  give  ready  assistance  to  a  legal  action  —  bound, 
as  a  grateful  and  obliged  friend,  to  respect  my  rights 
and  my  person  —  thrusts  himself  betwixt  me  —  me, 
the  avenger  of  blood  —  and  my  lawful  captive ;  beats  me 
to  the  earth,  at  once  endangering  my  life,  and,  in  mere 
human  eyes,  sullying  mine  honour;  and,  under  his  pro- 

208 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tection,  the  Midianitish  woman  reaches,  like  a  sea- 
eagle,  the  nest  which  she  hath  made  in  the  wave- 
surrounded  rocks,  and  remains  there  till  gold,  duly 
administered  at  court,  wipes  out  all  memory  of  her  crime, 
and  baffles  the  vengeance  due  to  the  memory  of  the  best 
and  bravest  of  men.  But,'  he  added,  apostrophising  the 
portrait  of  Christian,  'thou  art  not  yet  forgotten,  my 
fair-haired  William!  The  vengeance  which  dogs  thy 
murderers  is  slow,  but  it  is  sure ! ' 

There  was  a  pause  of  some  moments,  which  Julian 
Peveril,  willing  to  hear  to  what  conclusion  Major 
Bridgenorth  was  finally  to  arrive,  did  not  care  to  inter- 
rupt. Accordingly,  in  a  few  minutes,  the  latter  pro- 
ceeded. 'These  things,'  he  said,  'I  recall  not  in  bitter- 
ness, so  far  as  they  are  personal  to  me  —  I  recall  them 
not  in  spite  of  heart,  though  they  have  been  the  means 
of  banishing  me  from  my  place  of  residence,  where  my 
fathers  dwelt,  and  where  my  earthly  comforts  lie  in- 
terred. But  the  public  cause  sets  further  strife  betwixt 
your  father  and  me.  Who  so  active  as  he  to  execute  the 
fatal  edict  of  black  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  when  so 
many  hundreds  of  Gospel-preachers  were  expelled  from 
house  and  home  —  from  hearth  and  altar — from  church 
and  parish,  to  make  room  for  belly-gods  and  thieves? 
Who,  when  a  devoted  few  of  the  Lord's  people  were 
united  to  lift  the  fallen  standard,  and  once  more  ad- 
vance the  good  cause,  was  the  readiest  to  break  their 
purpose  —  to  search  for,  persecute,  and  apprehend 
them?  Whose  breath  did  I  feel  warm  on  my  neck, 
whose  naked  sword  was  thrust  within  a  foot  of  my  body, 
whilst  I  lurked  darkling,  like  a  thief  in  concealment, 
in  the  house  of  my  fathers?  It  was  Geoffrey  Peveril's 
87  209 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

—  it  was  your  father's !  What  can  you  answer  to  all  this, 
or  how  can  you  reconcile  it  with  your  present  wishes?' 

Julian,  in  reply,  could  only  remark,  'That  these 
injuries  had  been  of  long  standing;  that  they  had  been 
done  in  heat  of  times  and  heat  of  temper,  and  that 
Master  Bridgenorth,  in  Christian  kindness,  should  not 
entertain  a  keen  resentment  of  them,  when  a  door  was 
open  for  reconciliation.' 

'Peace,  young  man,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'thou  speakest 
of  thou  knowest  not  what.  To  forgive  our  human  wrongs 
is  Christian-like  and  commendable;  but  we  have  no 
commission  to  forgive  those  which  have  been  done  to 
the  cause  of  religion  and  of  liberty ;  we  have  no  right  to 
grant  immunity,  or  to  shake  hands  with  those  who  have 
poured  forth  the  blood  of  our  brethren.'  He  looked  at 
the  picture  of  Christian,  and  was  silent  for  a  few  min- 
utes, as  if  he  feared  to  give  too  violent  way  to  his  own 
impetuosity,  and  resumed  the  discourse  in  a  milder  tone. 

'These  things  I  point  out  to  you,  Julian,  that  I  may 
show  you  how  impossible,  in  the  eyes  of  a  merely  worldly 
man,  would  be  the  union  which  you  are  desirous  of. 
But  Heaven  hath  at  times  opened  a  door,  where  man 
beholds  no  means  of  issue.  Julian,  your  mother,  for  one 
to  whom  the  truth  is  unknown,  is,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  world,  one  of  the  best  and  one  of  the  wisest  of 
women;  and  Providence,  which  gave  her  so  fair  a  form, 
and  tenanted  that  form  with  a  mind  as  pure  as  the 
original  frailty  of  our  vile  nature  will  permit,  means 
not,  I  trust,  that  she  shall  continue  to  the  end  to  be  a 
vessel  of  wrath  and  perdition.  Of  your  father  I  say 
nothing  —  he  is  what  the  times  and  example  of  others, 
and  the  counsels  of  his  lordly  priest,  have  made  him; 

2IO 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  of  him,  once  more,  I  say  nothing,  save  that  I  have 
power  over  him,  which  ere  now  he  might  have  felt,  but 
that  there  is  one  within  his  chambers  who  might  have 
suffered  in  his  suffering.  Nor  do  I  wish  to  root  up  your 
ancient  family.  If  I  prize  not  your  boast  of  family  hon- 
ours and  pedigree,  I  would  not  willingly  destroy  them; 
more  than  I  would  pull  down  a  moss-grown  tower,  or 
hew  to  the  ground  an  ancient  oak,  save  for  the  straight- 
ening of  the  common  path,  and  the  advantage  of  the 
public.  I  have,  therefore,  no  resentment  against  the 
humbled  house  of  Peveril  —  nay,  I  have  regard  to  it  in 
its  depression.' 

He  here  made  a  second  pause,  as  if  he  expected  Julian 
to  say  something.  But,  notwithstanding  the  ardour 
with  which  the  young  man  had  pressed  his  suit,  he  was 
too  much  trained  in  ideas  of  the  importance  of  his  fam- 
ily, and  in  the  better  habit  of  respect  for  his  parents,  to 
hear,  without  displeasure,  some  part  of  Bridgenorth's 
discourse. 

'The  house  of  Peveril,'  he  replied,  'was  never  hum- 
bled.' 

'  Had  you  said  the  sons  of  that  house  had  never  been 
humble  J  answered  Bridgenorth,  'you  would  have  come 
nearer  the  truth.  Are  you  not  humbled?  Live  you  not 
here,  the  lackey  of  a  haughty  woman,  the  play-com- 
panion of  an  empty  youth?  If  you  leave  this  isle  and  go 
to  the  court  of  England,  see  what  regard  will  there  be 
paid  to  the  old  pedigree  that  deduces  your  descent  from 
kings  and  conquerors.  A  scurril  or  obscene  jest,  an 
impudent  carriage,  a  laced  cloak,  a  handful  of  gold,  and 
the  readiness  to  wager  it  on  a  card  or  a  die,  will  better 
advance  you  at  the  court  of  Charles  than  your  father's 

211 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ancient  name,  and  slavish  devotion  of  blood  and  fortune 
to  the  cause  of  his  father.' 

*That  is,  indeed,  but  too  probable,'  said  Peveril;  'but 
the  court  shall  be  no  element  of  mine.  I  will  live  like 
my  fathers,  among  my  people,  care  for  their  comforts, 
decide  their  differences  — ' 

'Build  Maypoles,  and  dance  around  them,'  said 
Bridgenorth,  with  another  of  those  grim  smiles  which 
passed  over  his  features  like  the  Hght  of  a  sexton's  torch, 
as  it  glares  and  is  reflected  by  the  window  of  the  church, 
when  he  comes  from  locking  a  funeral  vault.  'No, 
Julian,  these  are  not  times  in  which,  by  the  dreaming 
drudgery  of  a  country  magistrate  and  the  petty  cares 
of  a  country  proprietor,  a  man  can  serve  his  unhappy 
country.  There  are  mighty  designs  afloat,  and  men  are 
called  to  make  their  choice  betwixt  God  and  Baal.  The 
ancient  superstition  —  the  abomination  of  our  fathers 
—  is  raising  its  head  and  flinging  abroad  its  snares, 
under  the  protection  of  the  princes  of  the  earth;  but  she 
raises  not  her  head  unmarked  or  unwatched:  the  true 
English  hearts  are  as  thousands  which  wait  but  a  signal 
to  arise  as  one  man,  and  show  the  kings  of  the  earth 
that  they  have  combined  in  vain!  We  will  cast  their 
cords  from  us;  the  cup  of  their  abominations  we  will  not 
taste.' 

'You  speak  in  darkness,  Master  Bridgenorth,*  said 
Peveril.  'Knowing  so  much  of  me,  you  may,  perhaps, 
also  be  aware  that  I  at  least  have  seen  too  much  of  the 
delusions  of  Rome  to  desire  that  they  should  be  pro- 
pagated at  home.' 

'Else,  wherefore  do  I  speak  to  thee  friendly  and  so 
free?'  said  Bridgenorth.    'Do  I  not  know  with  what 

212 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

readiness  of  early  wit  you  baflaed  the  wily  attempts  of 
the  woman's  priest  to  seduce  thee  from  the  Protestant 
faith?  Do  I  not  know  how  thou  wast  beset  when  abroad, 
and  that  thou  didst  both  hold  thine  own  faith  and  secure 
the  wavering  belief  of  thy  friend?  Said  I  not,  "  This  was 
done  like  the  son  of  Margaret  Peveril"?  Said  I  not, 
"He  holdeth,  as  yet,  but  the  dead  letter;  but  the  seed 
which  is  sown  shall  one  day  sprout  and  quicken"? 
Enough,  however,  of  this.  For  to-day  this  is  thy  hab- 
itation. I  will  see  in  thee  neither  the  servant  of  that 
daughter  of  Eshbaal  nor  the  son  of  him  who  pursued 
my  hfe  and  blemished  my  honours;  but  thou  shalt  be  to 
me,  for  this  day,  as  the  child  of  her  without  whom  my 
house  had  been  extinct.' 

So  saying,  he  stretched  out  his  thin,  bony  hand  and 
grasped  that  of  Julian  Peveril;  but  there  was  such  a 
look  of  mourning  in  his  welcome  that,  whatever  delight 
the  youth  anticipated  spending  so  long  a  time  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  perhaps  in  her 
society,  or  however  strongly  he  felt  the  prudence  of 
conciliating  her  father's  good-will,  he  could  not  help 
feeling  as  if  his  heart  was  chilled  in  his  company. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

This  day  at  least  is  friendship's;  on  the  morrow 
Let  strife  come  an  she  will. 

Otway. 

Deborah  Debbitch,  summoned  by  her  master,  now 
made  her  appearance,  with  her  handkerchief  at  her  eyes, 
and  an  appearance  of  great  mental  trouble.  'It  was  not 
my  fault.  Major  Bridgenorth,'  she  said;  'how  could  I 
help  it?  like  will  to  like  —  the  boy  would  come  —  the 
girl  would  see  him.' 

'Peace,  foolish  woman/  said  Bridgenorth,  'and  hear 
what  I  have  got  to  say.' 

'I  know  what  your  honour  has  to  say  well  enough,' 
said  Deborah.  '  Service,  I  wot,  is  no  inheritance  nowa- 
days —  some  are  wiser  than  other  some  —  if  I  had  not 
been  wheedled  away  from  Martindale,  I  might  have 
had  a  house  of  mine  own  by  this  time.' 

'Peace,  idiot!'  said  Bridgenorth;  but  so  intent  was 
Deborah  on  her  vindication,  that  he  could  but  thrust 
the  interjection,  as  it  were  edgewise,  between  her  ex- 
clamations, which  followed  as  thick  as  is  usual  in 
cases  where  folk  endeavour  to  avert  deserved  censure 
by  a  clamorous  justification  ere  the  charge  be  brought. 

'No  wonder  she  was  cheated,'  she  said,  'out  of  sight 
of  her  own  interest,  when  it  was  to  wait  on  pretty  Miss 
Alice.  All  your  honour's  gold  should  never  have 
tempted  me,  but  that  I  knew  she  was  but  a  dead  cast- 
away, poor  innocent,  if  she  were  taken  away  from  my 
lady  or  me.  And  so  this  is  the  end  on 't!  — up  early  and 

214 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

down  late,  and  this  is  all  my  thanks!  But  your  honour 
had  better  take  care  what  you  do;  she  has  the  short 
cough  yet  sometimes,  and  should  take  physic,  spring 
and  fall.' 

'Peace,  chattering  fool!'  said  her  master,  so  soon  as 
her  failing  breath  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  strike  in ; 
'thinkest  thou  I  knew  not  of  this  young  gentleman's 
visits  to  the  Black  Fort,  and  that,  if  they  had  displeased 
me,  I  would  not  have  known  how  to  stop  them  ? ' 

'Did  I  know  that  your  honour  knew  of  his  visits!' 
exclaimed  Deborah,  in  a  triumphant  tone  —  for,  like 
most  of  her  condition,  she  never  sought  further  for  her 
defence  than  a  lie,  however  inconsistent  and  improbable 
—  'did  I  know  that  your  honour  knew  of  it?  Why,  how 
should  I  have  permitted  his  visits  else?  I  wonder  what 
your  honour  takes  me  for !  Had  I  not  been  sure  it  was 
the  thing  in  this  world  that  your  honour  most  desired, 
would  I  have  presumed  to  lend  it  a  hand  forward?  I 
trust  I  know  my  duty  better.  Hear  if  I  ever  asked  an- 
other youngster  into  the  house,  save  himself,  for  I  knew 
your  honour  was  wise,  and  quarrels  cannot  last  for  ever, 
and  love  begins  where  hatred  ends;  and,  to  be  sure,  they 
look  as  if  they  were  born  one  for  the  other;  and  then  the 
estates  of  Moultrassie  and  Martindale  suit  each  other 
like  sheath  and  knife.' 

'Parrot  of  a  woman,  hold  your  tongue!'  said  Bridge- 
north,  his  patience  almost  completely  exhausted;  'or, 
if  you  will  prate,  let  it  be  to  your  playfellows  in  the 
kitchen,  and  bid  them  get  ready  some  dinner  presently, 
for  Master  Peveril  is  far  from  home.' 

'That  I  will,  and  with  all  my  heart,'  said  Deborah; 
'and  if  there  are  a  pair  of  fatter  fowls  in  Man  than  shall 

215 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

clap  their  wings  on  the  table  presently,  your  honour 
shall  call  me  goose  as  well  as  parrot.'  She  then  left  the 
apartment. 

'It  is  to  such  a  woman  as  that,'  said  Bridgenorth, 
looking  after  her  significantly,  '  that  you  conceived  me 
to  have  abandoned  the  charge  of  my  only  child?  But 
enough  of  this  subject;  we  will  walk  abroad,  if  you 
will,  while  she  is  engaged  in  a  province  fitter  for  her 
imderstanding.' 

So  saying,  he  left  the  house,  accompanied  by  Julian 
Peveril,  and  they  were  soon  walking  side  by  side,  as  if 
they  had  been  old  acquaintances. 

It  may  have  happened  to  many  of  our  readers,  as  it 
has  done  to  ourselves,  to  be  thrown  by  accident  into 
society  with  some  individual  whose  claims  to  what  is 
called  a  serious  character  stand  considerably  higher  than 
our  own,  and  with  whom,  therefore,  we  have  conceived 
ourselves  likely  to  spend  our  time  in  a  very  stiff  and 
constrained  manner;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  our  de- 
stined companion  may  have  apprehended  some  disgust 
from  the  supposed  levity  and  thoughtless  gaiety  of  a 
disposition  so  different  from  his  own.  Now,  it  has  fre- 
quently happened  that,  when  we,  with  that  urbanity 
and  good-humour  which  is  our  principal  characteristic, 
have  accommodated  ourself  to  our  companion,  by 
throwing  as  much  seriousness  into  our  conversation  as 
our  habits  will  admit,  he,  on  the  other  hand,  moved  by 
our  liberal  example,  hath  divested  his  manners  of  a  part 
of  their  austerity;  and  our  conversation  has,  in  conse- 
quence, been  of  that  pleasant  texture,  betwixt  the  use- 
ful and  agreeable,  which  best  resembles  'the  fairy-web 
of  night  and  day,'  usually  called  in  prose  the  twilight. 

216 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

It  is  probable  both  parties  may,  on  such  occasions,  have 
been  the  better  for  their  encounter,  even  if  it  went  no 
further  than  to  establish  for  the  time  a  commimity  of 
feeling  between  men  who,  separated  more  perhaps  by 
temper  than  by  principle,  are  too  apt  to  charge  each 
other  with  profane  frivolity  on  the  one  hand  or  fanati- 
cism on  the  other. 

It  fared  thus  in  Peveril's  walk  with  Bridgenorth,  and 
in  the  conversation  which  he  held  with  him. 

Carefully  avoiding  the  subject  on  which  he  had  al- 
ready spoken.  Major  Bridgenorth  turned  his  conversa- 
tion chiefly  on  foreign  travel,  and  on  the  wonders  he 
had  seen  in  distant  countries,  and  which  he  appeared 
to  have  marked  with  a  curious  and  observant  eye.  This 
discourse  made  the  time  fly  light  away;  for,  although 
the  anecdotes  and  observations  thus  communicated 
were  all  tinged  with  the  serious  and  almost  gloomy  spirit 
of  the  narrator,  they  yet  contained  traits  of  interest  and 
of  wonder,  such  as  are  usually  interesting  to  a  youthful 
ear,  and  were  particularly  so  to  Julian,  who  had  in  his 
disposition  some  cast  of  the  romantic  and  adventurous. 

It  appeared  that  Bridgenorth  knew  the  south  of 
France,  and  could  tell  many  stories  of  the  French 
Huguenots,  who  already  began  to  sustain  those  vexa- 
tions which  a  few  years  afterwards  were  summed  up  by 
the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantz.  He  had  even  been 
in  Hungary,  for  he  spoke  as  from  personal  knowledge 
of  the  character  of  several  of  the  heads  of  the  great 
Protestant  insurrection,  which  at  this  time  had  taken 
place  under  the  celebrated  Tekeli;  and  laid  down  solid 
reasons  why  they  were  entitled  to  make  common  cause 
with  the  Great  Turk,  rather  than  submit  to  the  Pope  of 

317 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Rome.  He  talked  also  of  Savoy,  where  those  of  the 
Reformed  religion  still  suffered  a  cruel  persecution ;  and 
he  mentioned,  with  a  swelling  spirit,  the  protection 
which  Oliver  had  afforded  to  the  oppressed  Protestant 
churches;  'therein  showing  himself,'  he  added,  'more 
fit  to  wield  the  supreme  power  than  those  who,  claiming 
it  by  right  of  inheritance,  use  it  only  for  their  own  vain 
and  voluptuous  pursuits.' 

'I  did  not  expect,'  said  Peveril,  modestly,  'to  have 
heard  Oliver's  panegyric  from  you,  Master  Bridge- 
north.' 

'I  did  not  panegyrise  him,'  answered  Bridgenorth; 
*  I  speak  but  truth  of  that  extraordinary  man,  now  being 
dead,  whom,  when  alive,  I  feared  not  to  withstand  to 
his  face.  It  is  the  fault  of  the  present  unhappy  King  if 
he  make  us  look  back  with  regret  to  the  days  when  the 
nation  was  respected  abroad,  and  when  devotion  and 
sobriety  were  practised  at  home.  But  I  mean  not  to  vex 
your  spirit  by  controversy.  You  have  lived  amongst 
those  who  find  it  more  easy  and  more  pleasant  to  be  the 
pensioners  of  France  than  her  controllers;  to  spend  the 
money  which  she  doles  out  to  themselves  than  to  check 
the  tyranny  with  which  she  oppresses  our  poor  brethren 
of  the  religion.  When  the  scales  shall  fall  from  thine 
eyes,  all  this  thou  shalt  see;  and  seeing,  shalt  learn  to 
detest  and  despise  it.' 

By  his  time  they  had  completed  their  walk,  and  were 
returned  to  the  Black  Fort  by  a  different  path  from  that 
which  had  led  them  up  the  valley.  The  exercise  and  the 
general  tone  of  conversation  had  removed,  in  some 
degree,  the  shyness  and  embarrassment  which  Peveril 
originally  felt  in  Bridgenorth's  presence,  and  which  the 

218 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tenor  of  his  first  remarks  had  rather  increased  than 
diminished.  Deborah's  promised  banquet  was  soon  on 
the  board;  and  in  simplicity,  as  well  as  neatness  and 
good  order,  answered  the  character  she  had  claimed  for 
it.  In  one  respect  alone  there  seemed  some  inconsistency, 
perhaps  a  httle  aJEEectation.  Most  of  the  dishes  were  of 
silver,  and  the  plates  were  of  the  same  metal ;  instead  of 
the  trenchers  and  pewter  which  Peveril  had  usually 
seen  employed  on  similar  occasions  at  the  Black  Fort. 

Presently,  with  the  feeling  of  one  who  walks  in  a 
pleasant  dream  from  which  he  fears  to  awake,  and  whose 
delight  is  mingled  with  wonder  and  with  uncertainty, 
Julian  Peveril  found  himself  seated  between  Alice 
Bridgenorth  and  her  father  —  the  being  he  most  loved 
on  earth,  and  the  person  whom  he  had  ever  considered 
as  the  great  obstacle  to  their  intercourse !  The  confusion 
of  his  mind  was  such,  that  he  could  scarcely  reply  to  the 
importunate  civilities  of  Dame  Deborah,  who,  seated 
with  them  at  table  in  her  quality  of  governante,  now 
dispensed  the  good  things  which  had  been  prepared 
under  her  own  eye. 

As  for  Alice,  she  seemed  to  have  formed  a  resolution 
to  play  the  mute ;  for  she  answered  not,  excepting  briefly, 
to  the  questions  of  Dame  Debbitch;  nay,  even  when  her 
father,  which  happened  once  or  twice,  attempted  to 
bring  her  forward  in  the  conversation,  she  made  no 
further  reply  than  respect  for  him  rendered  absolutely 
necessary. 

Upon  Bridgenorth  himself,  then,  devolved  the  task  of 
entertaining  the  company;  and,  contrary  to  his  ordinary 
habits,  he  did  not  seem  to  shrink  from  it.  His  discourse 
was  not  only  easy,  but  almost  cheerful,  though  ever  and 

219 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

anon  crossed  by  some  expressions  indicative  of  natural 
and  habitual  melancholy,  or  prophetic  of  future  mis- 
fortune and  woe.  Flashes  of  enthusiasm,  too,  shot  along 
his  conversation,  gleaming  like  the  sheet-lightning  of 
an  autumn  eve,  which  throws  a  strong,  though  moment- 
ary, illumination  across  the  sober  twilight,  and  all  the 
surrounding  objects,  which,  touched  by  it,  assume  a 
wilder  and  more  striking  character.  In  general,  however, 
Bridgenorth's  remarks  were  plain  and  sensible;  and  as 
he  aimed  at  no  graces  of  language,  any  ornament  which 
they  received  arose  out  of  the  interest  with  which  they 
were  impressed  on  his  hearers.  For  example,  when 
Deborah,  in  the  pride  and  vulgarity  of  her  heart,  called 
Julian's  attention  to  the  plate  from  which  they  had  been 
eating,  Bridgenorth  seemed  to  think  an  apology  neces- 
sary for  such  superfluous  expense. 

'It  was  a  symptom,'  he  said,  'of  approaching  danger, 
when  such  men,  as  were  not  usually  influenced  by  the 
vanities  of  life,  employed  much  money  in  ornaments 
composed  of  the  precious  metals.  It  was  a  sign  that  the 
merchant  could  not  obtain  a  profit  for  the  capital, 
which,  for  the  sake  of  security,  he  invested  in  this  inert 
form.  It  was  a  proof  that  the  noblemen  or  gentlemen 
feared  the  rapacity  of  power,  when  they  put  their  wealth 
into  forms  the  most  portable  and  the  most  capable  of 
being  hidden;  and  it  showed  the  uncertainty  of  credit, 
when  a  man  of  judgment  preferred  the  actual  possession 
of  a  mass  of  silver  to  the  convenience  of  a  goldsmith's 
or  a  banker's  receipt.  While  a  shadow  of  liberty  re- 
mained,' he  said,  'domestic  rights  were  last  invaded; 
and,  therefore,  men  disposed  upon  their  cupboards  and 
tables  the  wealth  which  in  these  places  would  remain 

220 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

longest,  though  not  perhaps  finally,  sacred  from  the 
grasp  of  a  tyrannical  government.  But  let  there  be  a 
demand  for  capital  to  support  a  profitable  commerce, 
and  the  mass  is  at  once  consigned  to  the  furnace,  and, 
ceasing  to  be  a  vain  and  cumbrous  ornament  of  the  ban- 
quet, becomes  a  potent  and  active  agent  for  furthering 
the  prosperity  of  the  country.' 

*In  war,  too,'  said  Peveril,  'plate  has  been  found  a 
ready  resource.' 

'But  too  much  so,'  answered  Bridgenorth.  'In  the 
late  times,  the  plate  of  the  nobles  and  gentry,  with  that 
of  the  colleges,  and  the  sale  of  the  crown  jewels,  enabled 
the  King  to  make  his  unhappy  stand,  which  prevented 
matters  returning  to  a  state  of  peace  and  good  order, 
until  the  sword  had  attained  an  undue  superiority  both 
over  King  and  Parliament.' 

He  looked  at  Julian  as  he  spoke,  much  as  he  who 
proves  a  horse  offers  some  object  suddenly  to  his  eyes, 
then  watches  to  see  if  he  starts  or  blenches  from  it.  But 
Julian's  thoughts  were  too  much  bent  on  other  topics  to 
manifest  any  alarm.  His  answer  referred  to  a  previous 
part  of  Bridgenorth's  discourse,  and  was  not  returned 
till  after  a  brief  pause.  'War,  then,'  he  said  —  'war, 
the  grand  impoverisher,  is  also  a  creator  of  the  wealth 
which  it  wastes  and  devours?' 

'Yes,'  replied  Bridgenorth,  'even  as  the  sluice  brings 
into  action  the  sleeping  waters  of  the  lake,  which  it 
finally  drains.  Necessity  invents  arts  and  discovers 
means;  and  what  necessity  is  sterner  than  that  of  civil 
war?  Therefore,  even  war  is  not  in  itself  unmixed  evil, 
being  the  creator  of  impulses  and  energies  which  could 
not  otherwise  have  existed  in  society.' 

221 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Men  should  go  to  war,  then,'  said  Peveril,  'that  they 
may  send  their  silver  plate  to  the  mint,  and  eat  from 
pewter  dishes  and  wooden  platters?' 

'Not  so,  my  son,'  said  Bridgenorth.  Then  checking 
himself,  as  he  observed  the  deep  crimson  on  Julian's 
cheek  and  brow,  he  added, '  I  crave  your  pardon  for  such 
familiarity;  but  I  meant  not  to  limit  what  I  said  even 
now  to  such  trifling  consequences,  although  it  may  be 
something  salutary  to  tear  men  from  their  pomps  and 
luxuries,  and  teach  those  to  be  Romans  who  would 
otherwise  be  Sybarites.  But  I  would  say,  that  times  of 
public  danger,  as  they  call  into  circulation  the  miser's 
hoard  and  the  proud  man's  bullion,  and  so  add  to  the 
circulating  wealth  of  the  country,  do  also  call  into  action 
many  a  brave  and  noble  spirit,  which  would  otherwise 
lie  torpid,  give  no  example  to  the  living,  and  bequeath 
no  name  to  future  ages.  Society  knows  not,  and  cannot 
know,  the  mental  treasures  which  slumber  in  her  bosom, 
till  necessity  and  opportunity  call  forth  the  statesman 
and  the  soldier  from  the  shades  of  lowly  life  to  the  parts 
they  are  designed  by  Providence  to  perform,  and  the 
stations  which  nature  had  qualified  them  to  hold.  So 
rose  Oliver  —  so  rose  Milton  —  so  rose  many  another 
name  which  cannot  be  forgotten  —  even  as  the  tempest 
summons  forth  and  displays  the  address  of  the  mariner.' 

'You  speak,'  said  Peveril,  'as  if  national  calamity 
might  be,  in  some  sort,  an  advantage.' 

'And  if  it  were  not  so,'  replied  Bridgenorth,  'it  had 
not  existed  in  this  state  of  trial,  where  all  temporal  evil 
is  alleviated  by  something  good  in  its  progress  or  result, 
where  all  that  is  good  is  close  coupled  with  that  which  is 
in  itself  evil.' 

222 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*It  must  be  a  noble  sight,'  said  Julian,  'to  behold  the 
slumbering  energies  of  a  great  mind  awakened  into 
energy,  and  to  see  it  assume  the  authority  which  is  its 
due  over  spirits  more  meanly  endowed.' 

'I  once  witnessed,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'something  to 
the  same  effect;  and  as  the  tale  is  brief,  I  will  tell  it  you, 
if  you  will :  — 

'Amongst  my  wanderings,  the  Transatlantic  settle- 
ments have  not  escaped  me;  more  especially  the  coun- 
try of  New  England,  into  which  our  native  land  has 
shaken  from  her  lap,  as  a  drunkard  flings  from  him  his 
treasures,  so  much  that  is  precious  in  the  eyes  of  God 
and  of  His  children.  There  thousands  of  our  best  and 
most  godly  men  —  such  whose  righteousness  might 
come  between  the  Almighty  and  His  wrath,  and  prevent 
the  ruin  of  cities  —  are  content  to  be  the  inhabitants  of 
the  desert,  rather  encountering  the  unenlightened  sav- 
ages than  stooping  to  extinguish,  under  the  oppression 
practised  in  Britain,  the  light  that  is  within  their  own 
minds.  There  I  remained  for  a  time,  during  the  wars 
which  the  colony  maintained  with  Philip,  a  great  Indian 
chief,  or  sachem,  as  they  were  called,  who  seemed  a 
messenger  sent  from  Satan  to  buffet  them.  His  cruelty 
was  great  —  his  dissimulation  profound ;  and  the  skill 
and  promptitude  with  which  he  maintained  a  destruc- 
tive and  desultory  warfare  inflicted  many  dreadful 
calamities  on  the  settlement.  I  was,  by  chance,  at  a 
small  village  in  the  woods,  more  than  thirty  miles  from 
Boston,  and  in  its  situation  exceedingly  lonely,  and  sur- 
rounded with  thickets.  Nevertheless,  there  was  no  idea 
of  any  danger  from  the  Indians  at  that  time,  for  men 
trusted  to  the  protection  of  a  considerable  body  of  troops 

223 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who  had  taken  the  field  for  protection  of  the  frontiers, 
and  who  lay,  or  were  supposed  to  lie,  betwixt  the  hamlet 
and  the  enemy's  country.  But  they  had  to  do  with  a  foe 
whom  the  devil  himself  had  inspired  at  once  with  cun- 
ning and  cruelty.  It  was  on  a  Sabbath  morning,  when 
we  had  assembled  to  take  sweet  counsel  together  in 
the  Lord's  house.  Our  temple  was  but  constructed  of 
wooden  logs;  but  when  shall  the  chant  of  trained  hire- 
lings, or  the  sounding  of  tin  and  brass  tubes  amid  the 
aisles  of  a  minster,  arise  so  sweetly  to  Heaven  as  did  the 
psalm  in  which  we  united  at  once  our  voices  and  our 
hearts!  An  excellent  worthy,  who  now  sleeps  in  the 
Lord,  Nehemiah  Solsgrace,  long  the  companion  of  my 
pilgrimage,  had  just  begun  to  wrestle  in  prayer,  when 
a  woman,  with  disordered  looks  and  dishevelled  hair, 
entered  our  chapel  in  a  distracted  manner,  screaming 
incessantly,  "  The  Indians!  The  Indians! "  In  that  land 
no  man  dares  separate  himself  from  his  means  of  defence, 
and  whether  in  the  city  or  in  the  field,  in  the  ploughed 
land  or  the  forest,  men  keep  beside  them  their  weapons, 
as  did  the  Jews  at  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple.  So  we 
sallied  forth  with  our  guns  and  pikes,  and  heard  the 
whoop  of  these  incarnate  devils,  already  in  possession 
of  a  part  of  the  town,  and  exercising  their  cruelty  on 
the  few  whom  weighty  causes  or  indisposition  had  with- 
held from  public  worship;  and  it  was  remarked  as  a 
judgment  that,  upon  that  bloody  Sabbath,  Adrian 
Hanson,  a  Dutchman,  a  man  well  enough  disposed 
towards  men,  but  whose  mind  was  altogether  given  to 
worldly  gain,  was  shot  and  scalped  as  he  was  summing 
his  weekly  gains  in  his  warehouse.  In  fine,  there  was 
much  damage  done;  and  although  our  arrival  and  en- 

224 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

trance  into  combat  did  in  some  sort  put  them  back,  yet 
being  surprised  and  confused,  and  having  no  appointed 
leader  of  our  band,  the  devilish  enemy  shot  hard  at  us, 
and  had  some  advantage.  It  was  pitiful  to  hear  the 
screams  of  women  and  children  amid  the  report  of  guns 
and  the  whistUng  of  bullets,  mixed  with  the  ferocious 
yells  of  these  savages,  which  they  term  their  war-whoop. 
Several  houses  in  the  upper  part  of  the  village  were  soon 
on  fire;  and  the  roaring  of  the  flames,  and  crackling  of  the 
great  beams  as  they  blazed,  added  to  the  horrible  con- 
fusion; while  the  smoke  which  the  wind  drove  against 
us  gave  further  advantage  to  the  enemy,  who  fought, 
as  it  were,  invisible,  and  under  cover,  whilst  we  fell  fast 
by  their  unerring  fire.  In  this  state  of  confusion,  and 
while  we  were  about  to  adopt  the  desperate  project  of 
evacuating  the  village,  and,  placing  the  women  and  chil- 
dren in  the  centre,  of  attempting  a  retreat  to  the  nearest 
settlement,  it  pleased  Heaven  to  send  us  unexpected 
assistance.  A  tall  man  of  a  reverend  appearance,  whom 
no  one  of  us  had  ever  seen  before,  suddenly  was  in  the 
midst  of  us,  as  we  hastily  agitated  the  resolution  of  re- 
treating. His  garments  were  of  the  skin  of  the  elk,  and 
he  wore  sword  and  carried  gun;  I  never  saw  anything 
more  august  than  his  features,  overshadowed  by  locks  of 
grey  hair,  which  mingled  with  a  long  beard  of  the  same 
colour.  "Men  and  brethren,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  like 
that  which  turns  back  the  flight,  "why  sink  your  hearts  ? 
and  why  are  you  thus  disquieted?  Fear  ye  that  the  God 
we  serve  will  give  you  up  to  yonder  heathen  dogs?  Fol- 
low me,  and  you  shall  see  this  day  that  there  is  a  captain 
in  Israel!"  He  uttered  a  few  brief  but  distinct  orders, 
in  the  tone  of  one  who  was  accustomed  to  command; 
27  225 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  such  was  the  influence  of  his  appearance,  his  mien, 
his  language,  and  his  presence  of  mind,  that  he  was 
implicitly  obeyed  by  men  who  had  never  seen  him  until 
that  moment.  We  were  hastily  divided,  by  his  orders, 
into  two  bodies;  one  of  which  maintained  the  defence 
of  the  village  with  more  courage  than  ever,  convinced 
that  the  Unknown  was  sent  by  God  to  our  rescue.  At 
his  command  they  assumed  the  best  and  most  sheltered 
positions  for  exchanging  their  deadly  fire  with  the  In- 
dians; while,  under  cover  of  the  smoke,  the  stranger 
sallied  from  the  town,  at  the  head  of  the  other  division 
of  the  New  England  men,  and,  fetching  a  circuit,  at- 
tacked the  red  warriors  in  the  rear.  The  surprise,  as  is 
usual  amongst  savages,  had  complete  effect;  for  they 
doubted  not  that  they  were  assailed  in  their  turn,  and 
placed  betwixt  two  hostile  parties  by  the  return  of  a 
detachment  from  the  provincial  army.  The  heathens 
fled  in  confusion,  abandoning  the  half- won  village,  and 
leaving  behind  them  such  a  number  of  their  warriors 
that  the  tribe  hath  never  recovered  its  loss.  Never  shall 
I  forget  the  figure  of  our  venerable  leader,  when  our 
men,  and  not  they  only,  but  the  women  and  children 
of  the  village,  rescued  from  the  tomahawk  and  scalping- 
knife,  stood  crowded  around  him,  yet  scarce  venturing 
to  approach  his  person,  and  more  minded,  perhaps,  to 
worship  him  as  a  descended  angel  than  to  thank  him 
as  a  fellow-mortal.  "Not  unto  me  be  the  glory,"  he 
said:  "I  am  but  an  implement,  frail  as  yourselves,  in 
the  hand  of  Him  who  is  strong  to  deliver.  Bring  me  a 
cup  of  water,  that  I  may  allay  my  parched  throat,  ere 
I  essay  the  task  of  offering  thanks  where  they  are  most 
due."  I  was  nearest  to  him  as  he  spoke,  and  I  gave  into 

226 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

his  hand  the  water  he  requested.  At  that  moment  we 
exchanged  glances,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  recog- 
nised a  noble  friend  whom  I  had  long  since  deemed  in 
glory;  but  he  gave  me  no  time  to  speak,  had  speech 
been  prudent.  Sinking  on  his  knees  and  signing  us  to 
obey  him,  he  poured  forth  a  strong  and  energetic  thanks- 
giving for  the  turning  back  of  the  battle,  which,  pro- 
nounced with  a  voice  loud  and  clear  as  a  war-trumpet, 
thrilled  through  the  joints  and  marrow  of  the  hearers. 
I  have  heard  many  an  act  of  devotion  in  my  life,  had 
Heaven  vouchsafed  me  grace  to  profit  by  them ;  but  such 
a  prayer  as  this,  uttered  amid  the  dead  and  the  dying, 
with  a  rich  tone  of  mingled  triumph  and  adoration,  was 
beyond  them  all:  it  was  like  the  song  of  the  inspired 
prophetess  who  dwelt  beneath  the  palm-tree  between 
Ramah  and  Bethel.  He  was  silent;  and  for  a  brief  space 
we  remained  with  our  faces  bent  to  the  earth,  no  man 
daring  to  lift  his  head.  At  length  we  looked  up,  but  our 
deliverer  was  no  longer  amongst  us;  nor  was  he  ever 
again  seen  in  the  land  which  he  had  rescued.' 

Here  Bridgenorth,  who  had  told  this  singular  story 
with  an  eloquence  and  vivacity  of  detail  very  contrary 
to  the  usual  dryness  of  his  conversation,  paused  for  an 
instant,  and  then  resumed  —  '  Thou  seest,  young  man, 
that  men  of  valour  and  of  discretion  are  called  forth  to 
command  in  circumstances  of  national  exigence,  though 
their  very  existence  is  unknown  in  the  land  which  they 
are  predestined  to  deliver.' 

'But  what  thought  the  people  of  the  mysterious 
stranger? '  said  Julian,  who  had  listened  with  eagerness, 
for  the  story  was  of  a  kind  interesting  to  the  youthful 
and  the  brave. 

227 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Many  things,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'and,  as  usual, 
little  to  the  purpose.  The  prevailing  opinion  was,  not- 
withstanding his  own  disclamation,  that  the  stranger 
was  really  a  supernatural  being;  others  believed  him  an 
inspired  champion,  transported  in  the  body  from  some 
distant  climate,  to  show  us  the  way  to  safety;  others, 
again,  concluded  that  he  was  a  recluse,  who,  either  from 
motives  of  piety  or  other  cogent  reasons,  had  become  a 
dweller  in  the  wilderness,  and  shunned  the  face  of  man.' 

'And,  if  I  may  presume  to  ask,'  said  Julian,  'to  which 
of  these  opinions  were  you  disposed  to  adhere? ' 

'  The  last  suited  best  with  the  transient  though  close 
view  with  which  I  had  perused  the  stranger's  features,' 
replied  Bridgenorth;  'for  although  I  dispute  not  that  it 
may  please  Heaven,  on  high  occasions,  even  to  raise  one 
from  the  dead  in  defence  of  his  country,  yet  I  doubted 
not  then,  as  I  doubt  not  now,  that  I  looked  on  the  living 
form  of  one  who  had  indeed  powerful  reasons  to  conceal 
him  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock.' 

'Are  these  reasons  a  secret?'  asked  JuHan  Peveril. 

'Not  properly  a  secret,'  repHed  Bridgenorth;  'for  I 
fear  not  thy  betraying  what  I  might  tell  thee  in  private 
discourse;  and  besides,  wert  thou  so  base,  the  prey  lies 
too  distant  for  any  hunters  to  whom  thou  couldst  point 
out  its  traces.  But  the  name  of  this  worthy  will  sound 
harsh  in  thy  ear,  on  account  of  one  action  of  his  life  — 
being  his  accession  to  a  great  measure  which  made  the 
extreme  isles  of  the  earth  to  tremble.  Have  you  never 
heard  of  Richard  WhalleyP' 

'Of  the  regicide?'  exclaimed  Peveril,  starting. 

'Call  his  act  what  thou  wilt,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'he 
was  not  less  the  rescuer  of  that  devoted  village,  that, 

228 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

with  other  leading  spirits  of  the  age,  he  sat  in  the  judg- 
ment-seat when  Charles  Stuart  was  arraigned  at  the 
bar,  and  subscribed  the  sentence  that  went  forth  upon 
him.' 

*I  have  ever  heard,'  said  Julian,  in  an  altered  voice, 
and  colouring  deeply,  'that  you.  Master  Bridgenorth, 
with  the  other  Presbyterians,  were  totally  averse  to  that 
detestable  crime,  and  were  ready  to  have  made  joint 
cause  with  the  Cavaliers  in  preventing  so  horrible  a 
parricide.' 

'If  it  were  so,'  replied  Bridgenorth,  'we  have  been 
richly  rewarded  by  his  successor!' 

'  Rewarded ! '  exclaimed  Julian.  '  Does  the  distinction 
of  good  and  evil,  and  our  obligation  to  do  the  one  and 
forbear  the  other,  depend  on  the  reward  which  may  at- 
tach to  our  actions? ' 

'God  forbid!'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'yet  those  who 
view  the  havoc  which  this  house  of  Stuart  have  made 
in  the  church  and  state  —  the  tyranny  which  they  exer- 
cise over  men's  persons  and  consciences  —  may  well 
doubt  whether  it  be  lawful  to  use  weapons  in  their  de- 
fence. Yet  you  hear  me  not  praise,  or  even  vindicate, 
the  death  of  the  King,  though  so  far  deserved,  as  he  was 
false  to  his  oath  as  a  prince  and  magistrate.  I  only  tell 
you  what  you  desired  to  know,  that  Richard  Whalley, 
one  of  the  late  King's  judges,  was  he  of  whom  I  have  just 
been  speaking.  I  knew  his  lofty  brow,  though  time  had 
made  it  balder  and  higher ;  his  grey  eye  retained  all  its 
lustre ;  and  though  the  grizzled  beard  covered  the  lower 
part  of  his  face,  it  prevented  me  not  from  recognising 
him.  The  scent  was  hot  after  him  for  his  blood;  but, 
by  the  assistance  of  those  friends  whom  Heaven  had 

229 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

raised  up  for  his  preservation,  he  was  concealed  care- 
fully, and  emerged  only  to  do  the  will  of  Providence 
in  the  matter  of  that  battle.  Perhaps  his  voice  may  be 
heard  in  the  field  once  more,  should  England  need  one 
of  her  noblest  hearts.'  ^ 

'Now,  God  forbid!'  said  Julian. 

'Amen,'  returned  Bridgenorth.  'May  God  avert  civil 
war,  and  pardon  those  whose  madness  would  bring  it 
on  us ! ' 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  Julian,  who  had 
scarce  lifted  his  eyes  towards  Alice,  stole  a  glance  in  that 
direction,  and  was  struck  by  the  deep  cast  of  melancholy 
which  had  stolen  over  features  to  which  a  cheerful,  if 
not  a  gay,  expression  was  most  natural.  So  soon  as  she 
caught  his  eye,  she  remarked,  and,  as  Julian  thought, 
with  significance,  that  the  shadows  were  lengthening 
and  evening  coming  on. 

He  heard ;  and  although  satisfied  that  she  hinted  at  his 
departure,  he  could  not,  upon  the  instant,  find  resolution 
to  break  the  spell  which  detained  him.  The  language 
which  Bridgenorth  held  was  not  only  new  and  alarming, 
but  so  contrary  to  the  maxims  in  which  he  was  brought 
up,  that,  as  a  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  he 
would,  in  another  case,  have  thought  himself  called  upon 
to  dispute  its  conclusions,  even  at  the  sword's  point. 
But  Bridgenorth's  opinions  were  delivered  with  so  much 
calmness  —  seemed  so  much  the  result  of  conviction  — 
that  they  excited  in  Julian  rather  a  spirit  of  wonder  than 
of  angry  controversy.  There  was  a  character  of  sober 
decision  and  sedate  melancholy  in  all  that  he  said  which, 
even  had  he  not  been  the  father  of  Alice  (and  perhaps 
*  See  Note  lo. 
230 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Julian  was  not  himself  aware  how  much  he  was  influenced 
by  that  circumstance) ,  would  have  rendered  it  difficult 
to  take  personal  offence.  His  language  and  sentiments 
were  of  that  quiet  yet  decided  kind  upon  which  it  is 
difficult  either  to  fix  controversy  or  quarrel,  although 
it  be  impossible  to  acquiesce  in  the  conclusions  to  which 
they  lead. 

While  Julian  remained  as  if  spell-bound  to  his  chair, 
scarce  more  surprised  at  the  company  in  which  he  found 
himself  than  at  the  opinions  to  which  he  was  listening, 
another  circumstance  reminded  him  that  the  proper  time 
of  his  stay  at  Black  Fort  had  been  expended.  Little 
Fairy,  the  Manx  pony,  which,  well  accustomed  to  the 
vicinity  of  Black  Fort,  used  to  feed  near  the  house  while 
her  master  made  his  visits  there,  began  to  find  his  pre- 
sent stay  rather  too  long.  She  had  been  the  gift  of  the 
countess  to  Julian  whilst  a  youth,  and  came  of  a  high- 
spirited  mountain  breed,  remarkable  alike  for  hardiness, 
for  longevity,  and  for  a  degree  of  sagacity  approaching 
to  that  of  the  dog.  Fairy  showed  the  latter  quality  by 
the  way  in  which  she  chose  to  express  her  impatience  to 
be  moving  homewards.  At  least  such  seemed  the  pur- 
pose of  the  shrill  neigh  with  which  she  startled  the  female 
inmates  of  the  parlour,  who,  the  moment  afterwards, 
could  not  forbear  smiling  to  see  the  nose  of  the  pony 
advanced  through  the  opened  casement. 

'Fairy  reminds  me,'  said  Julian,  looking  to  Alice  and 
rising, '  that  the  term  of  my  stay  here  is  exhausted.' 

'Speak  with  me  yet  one  moment,'  said  Bridgenorth, 
withdrawing  him  into  a  Gothic  recess  of  the  old-fash- 
ioned apartment,  and  speaking  so  low  that  he  could  not 
be  overheard  by  Alice  and  her  governante,  who,  in  the 

231 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

meantime,  caressed,  and  fed  with  fragments  of  bread, 
the  intruder  Fairy. 

'You  have  not,  after  all,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'told  me 
the  cause  of  your  coming  hither.'  He  stopped,  as  if  to 
enjoy  his  embarrassment,  and  then  added,  'And  indeed 
it  were  most  unnecessary  that  you  should  do  so.  I  have 
not  so  far  forgotten  the  days  of  my  youth,  or  those  affec- 
tions which  bind  poor  frail  humanity  but  too  much  to 
the  things  of  this  world.  Will  you  find  no  words  to  ask 
of  me  the  great  boon  which  you  seek,  and  which,  perad- 
venture,  you  would  not  have  hesitated  to  make  your 
own  without  my  knowledge  and  against  my  consent? 
Nay,  never  vindicate  thyself,  but  mark  me  further.  The 
patriarch  bought  his  beloved  by  fourteen  years'  hard 
service  to  her  father,  Laban,  and  they  seemed  to  him 
but  as  a  few  days.  But  he  that  would  wed  my  daughter 
must  serve,  in  comparison,  but  a  few  days,  though  in 
matters  of  such  mighty  import,  that  they  shall  seem  as 
the  service  of  many  years.  Reply  not  to  me  now,  but  go, 
and  peace  be  with  you.' 

He  retired  so  quickly,  after  speaking,  that  Peveril 
had  literally  not  an  instant  to  reply.  He  cast  his  eyes 
around  the  apartment,  but  Deborah  and  her  charge  had 
also  disappeared.  His  gaze  rested  for  a  moment  on  the 
portrait  of  Christian,  and  his  imagination  suggested  that 
his  dark  features  were  illuminated  by  a  smile  of  haughty 
triumph.  He  started  and  looked  more  attentively ;  it  was 
but  the  effect  of  the  evening  beam,  which  touched  the 
picture  at  the  instant.  The  effect  was  gone,  and  there 
remained  but  the  fixed,  grave,  inflexible  features  of  the 
republican  soldier. 

Julian  left  the  apartment  as  one  who  walks  in  a 
232 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

dream;  he  mounted  Fairy,  and,  agitated  by  a  variety  of 
thoughts  which  he  was  unable  to  reduce  to  order,  he  re- 
turned to  Castle  Rushin  before  the  night  sat  down. 

Here  he  found  all  in  movement.  The  countess,  with 
her  son,  had,  upon  some  news  received  or  resolution 
formed  during  his  absence,  removed,  with  a  principal 
part  of  their  family,  to  the  yet  stronger  castle  of  Holm- 
Peel,  about  eight  miles'  distance  across  the  island;  and 
which  had  been  suffered  to  fall  into  a  much  more  dilap- 
idated condition  than  that  of  Castletown,  so  far  as  it 
could  be  considered  as  a  place  of  residence.  But  as  a 
fortress  Holm-Peel  was  stronger  than  Castletown ;  nay, 
imless  assailed  regularly,  was  almost  impregnable;  and 
was  always  held  by  a  garrison  belonging  to  the  Lords  of 
Man.  Here  Peveril  arrived  at  nightfall.  He  was  told  in 
the  fishing- village  that  the  night-bell  of  the  castle  had 
been  rung  earHer  than  usual,  and  the  watch  set  with 
circumstances  of  unusual  and  jealous  precaution. 

Resolving,  therefore,  not  to  disturb  the  garrison  by 
entering  at  that  late  hour,  he  obtained  an  indifferent 
lodging  in  the  town  for  the  night,  and  determined  to  go 
to  the  castle  early  on  the  succeeding  morning.  He  was 
not  sorry  thus  to  gain  a  few  hours  of  solitude,  to  think 
over  the  agitating  events  of  the  preceding  day. 


CHAPTER  XV 


What  seem'd  its  head, 
The  likeness  of  a  kingly  crown  had  on. 

Paradise  Lost, 


SoDOR,  or  Holm-Peel/ SO  is  named  the  castle  to  which 
our  Julian  directed  his  course  early  on  the  following 
morning,  is  one  of  those  extraordinary  monuments  of 
antiquity  with  which  this  singular  and  interesting 
island  abounds.  It  occupied  the  whole  of  a  high  rocky 
peninsula,  or  rather  an  island,  for  it  is  surrounded  by  the 
sea  at  high- water,  and  scarcely  accessible  even  when  the 
tide  is  out,  although  a  stone  causeway  of  great  solidity, 
erected  for  the  express  purpose,  connects  the  island  with 
the  mainland.  The  whole  space  is  surrounded  by  double 
walls  of  great  strength  and  thickness ;  and  the  access  to 
the  interior,  at  the  time  which  we  treat  of,  was  only  by 
two  flights  of  steep  and  narrow  steps,  divided  from  each 
other  by  a  strong  tower  and  guard-house,  under  the 
former  of  which  there  is  an  entrance  arch.  The  open 
space  within  the  walls  extends  to  two  acres,  and  contains 
many  objects  worthy  of  antiquarian  curiosity.  There 
were,  besides  the  castle  itself,  two  cathedral  churches, 
dedicated,  the  earlier  to  St.  Patrick,  the  latter  to  St. 
Germain,  besides  two  smaller  churches;  all  of  which  had 
become,  even  in  that  day,  more  or  less  ruinous.  Their 
decayed  walls,  exhibiting  the  rude  and  massive  archi- 
tecture of  the  most  remote  period,  were  composed  of  a 
*  See  Note  ii. 
234 


PEVEREL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ragged  grey  stone,  which  formed  a  singular  contrast 
with  the  bright  red  freestone  of  which  the  window-cases, 
corner-stones,  arches,  and  other  ornamental  parts  of  the 
building  were  composed. 

Besides  these  four  ruinous  churches,  the  space  of 
ground  inclosed  by  the  massive  exterior  walls  of  Holm- 
Peel  exhibited  many  other  vestiges  of  the  olden  time. 
There  was  a  square  mound  of  earth,  facing,  with  its 
angles  to  the  points  of  the  compass,  one  of  those  motes, 
as  they  were  called,  on  which,  in  ancient  times,  the 
Northern  tribes  elected  or  recognised  their  chiefs,  and 
held  their  solemn  popular  assemblies,  or  comitia.  There 
was  also  one  of  those  singular  towers,  so  common  in 
Ireland  as  to  have  proved  the  favourite  theme  of  her 
antiquaries,  but  of  which  the  real  use  and  meaning  seem 
yet  to  be  hidden  in  the  mist  of  ages.  This  of  Holm-Peel 
had  been  converted  to  the  purpose  of  a  watch-tower. 
There  were,  besides.  Runic  monuments,  of  which  the 
legends  could  not  be  deciphered ;  and  later  inscriptions 
to  the  memory  of  champions  of  whom  the  names  only 
were  preserved  from  oblivion.  But  tradition  and  super- 
stitious eld,  still  most  busy  where  real  history  is  silent, 
had  filled  up  the  long  blank  of  accurate  information 
with  tales  of  sea-kings  and  pirates,  Hebridean  chiefs 
and  Norwegian  resolutes,  who  had  formerly  warred 
against,  and  in  defence  of,  this  famous  castle.  Super- 
stition, too,  had  her  tales  of  goblins,  ghosts,  and  spectres, 
her  legends  of  saints  and  demons,  of  fairies  and  of 
familiar  spirits,  which  in  no  corner  of  the  British  em- 
pire are  told  and  received  with  more  absolute  credulity 
than  in  the  Isle  of  Man. 

Amidst  all  these  ruins  of  an  older  time  arose  the  castle 

235 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

itself,  now  ruinous;  but  in  Charles  II 's  reign  well  gar- 
risoned, and,  in  a  military  point  of  view,  kept  in  com- 
plete order.  It  was  a  venerable  and  very  ancient  build- 
ing, containing  several  apartments  of  sufficient  size  and 
height  to  be  termed  noble.  But,  in  the  surrender  of  the 
island  by  Christian,  the  furniture  had  been,  in  a  great 
measure,  plundered  or  destroyed  by  the  Republican 
soldiers;  so  that,  as  we  have  before  hinted,  its  present 
state  was  ill  adapted  for  the  residence  of  the  noble  pro- 
prietor. Yet  it  had  been  often  the  abode,  not  only  of  the 
Lords  of  Man,  but  of  those  state  prisoners  whom  the 
Kings  of  Britain  sometimes  committed  to  their  charge. 

In  this  castle  of  Holm-Peel  the  great  King-Maker, 
Richard  Earl  of  Warwick,  was  confined  during  one 
period  of  his  eventful  life,  to  ruminate  at  leisure  on  his 
further  schemes  of  ambition.  And  here,  too,  Eleanor, 
the  haughty  wife  of  the  good  Duke  of  Gloucester,  pined 
out  in  seclusion  the  last  days  of  her  banishment.  The 
sentinels  pretended  that  her  discontented  spectre  was 
often  visible  at  night,  traversing  the  battlements  of  the 
external  walls,  or  standing  motionless  beside  a  particular 
solitary  turret  of  one  of  the  watch-towers  with  which 
they  are  flanked ;  but  dissolving  into  air  at  cock-crow,  or 
when  the  bell  tolled  from  the  yet  remaining  tower  of  St. 
Germain's  church. 

Such  was  Holm-Peel,  as  records  inform  us,  till  towards 
the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  lofty  but  almost  unfurnished 
apartments  of  this  ancient  castle  that  Julian  Peveril 
found  his  friend  the  Earl  of  Derby,  who  had  that  mo- 
ment sat  down  to  a  breakfast  composed  of  various  sorts 
of  fish.    'Welcome,  most  imperial  Julian/  he  said  — 

236 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'welcome  to  our  royal  fortress;  in  which,  as  yet,  we  are 
not  like  to  be  starved  with  hunger,  though  wellnigh 
dead  for  cold.' 

Julian  answered  by  inquiring  the  meaning  of  this 
sudden  movement. 

*  Upon  my  word,'  replied  the  earl, '  you  know  nearly  as 
much  of  it  as  I  do.  My  mother  has  told  me  nothing 
about  it,  supposing,  I  believe,  that  I  shall  at  length  be 
tempted  to  inquire ;  but  she  will  find  herself  much  mis- 
taken. I  shall  give  her  credit  for  full  wisdom  in  her  pro- 
ceedings, rather  than  put  her  to  the  trouble  to  render  a 
reason,  though  no  woman  can  render  one  better.' 

'Come  —  come,  this  is  affectation,  my  good  friend,' 
said  Julian,  'You  should  inquire  into  these  matters  a 
little  more  curiously.' 

' To  what  purpose? '  said  the  earl.  '  To  hear  old  stories 
about  the  Tinwald  laws,  and  the  contending  rights  of 
the  lords  and  the  clergy,  and  all  the  rest  of  that  Celtic 
barbarism,  which,  like  Burgesse's  thorough-paced  doc- 
trine, enters  at  one  ear,  paces  through,  and  goes  out  at 
the  other? ' 

'Come,  my  lord,'  said  Julian,  'you  are  not  so  indiffer- 
ent as  you  would  represent  yourself:  you  are  dying  of 
curiosity  to  know  what  this  hurry  is  about;  only  you 
think  it  the  courtly  humour  to  appear  careless  about 
your  own  affairs.' 

'Why,  what  should  it  be  about,'  said  the  young  earl, 
'unless  some  factious  dispute  between  our  Majesty's 
minister,  Governor  Nowel,  and  our  vassals?  or  perhaps 
some  dispute  betwixt  our  Majesty  and  the  ecclesiastical 
jurisdictions?  for  all  which,  our  Majesty  cares  as  little  as 
any  king  in  Christendom.' 

237 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  rather  suppose  there  is  intelligence  from  England,' 
said  Julian.  '  I  heard  last  night  in  Peeltown  that  Green- 
halgh  is  come  over  with  unpleasant  news.' 

*He  brought  me  nothing  that  was  pleasant,  I  wot 
well,'  said  the  earl.  'I  expected  something  from  St. 
Evremond  or  Hamilton,  some  new  plays  by  Dryden  or 
Lee,  and  some  waggery  or  lampoons  from  the  Rose 
Coffee-house;  and  the  fellow  has  brought  me  nothing  but 
a  parcel  of  tracts  about  Protestants  and  Papists,  and  a 
folio  play-book,  one  of  the  conceptions,  as  she  calls  them, 
of  that  old  madwoman,  the  Duchess  of  Newcastle.' 

'Hush,  my  lord,  for  Heaven's  sake,'  said  Peveril; 
*here  comes  the  countess;  and  you  know  she  takes  fire 
at  the  least  slight  to  her  ancient  friend.' 

'Let  her  read  her  ancient  friend's  works  herself,  then,' 
said  the  earl,  'and  think  her  as  wise  as  she  can;  but  I 
would  not  give  one  of  Waller's  songs  or  Denham's 
satires  for  a  whole  cart-load  of  her  Grace's  trash.  But 
here  comes  our  mother,  with  care  on  her  brow.' 

The  Countess  of  Derby  entered  the  apartment  accord- 
ingly, holding  in  her  hand  a  number  of  papers.  Her  dress 
was  a  mourning-habit,  with  a  deep  train  of  black  velvet, 
which  was  borne  by  a  little  favourite  attendant,  a  deaf 
and  dumb  girl,  whom,  in  compassion  to  her  misfortune, 
the  countess  had  educated  about  her  person  for  some 
years.  Upon  this  unfortunate  being,  with  the  touch  of 
romance  which  marked  many  of  her  proceedings,  Lady 
Derby  had  conferred  the  name  of  Fenella,  after  some 
ancient  princess  of  the  island.  The  countess  herself 
was  not  much  changed  since  we  last  presented  her  to 
our  readers.  Age  had  rendered  her  step  more  slow,  but 
not  less  majestic;  and  while  it  traced  some  wrinkles  on 

238 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

her  brow,  had  failed  to  quench  the  sedate  fire  of  her  dark 
eye.  The  young  men  rose  to  receive  her  with  the  formal 
reverence  which  they  knew  she  loved,  and  were  greeted 
by  her  with  equal  kindness. 

'Cousin  Peveril/  she  said,  for  so  she  always  called 
Julian,  in  respect  of  his  mother  being  a  kinswoman  of 
her  husband,  'you  were  ill  abroad  last  night,  when  we 
much  needed  your  counsel.' 

JuHan  answered  with  a  blush  which  he  could  not  pre- 
vent, '  That  he  had  followed  his  sport  among  the  moun- 
tains too  far,  had  returned  late,  and,  finding  her  lady- 
ship was  removed  from  Castletown,  had  instantly  fol- 
lowed the  family  hither;  but  as  the  night-bell  was  rung 
and  the  watch  set,  he  had  deemed  it  more  respectful  to 
lodge  for  the  night  in  the  town.' 

'It  is  well,'  said  the  countess;  'and,  to  do  you  justice, 
Juhan,  you  are  seldom  a  truant  neglecter  of  appointed 
hours,  though,  like  the  rest  of  the  youth  of  this  age,  you 
sometimes  suffer  your  sports  to  consume  too  much  of 
time  that  should  be  spent  otherwise.  But  for  your 
friend  Philip,  he  is  an  avowed  contemner  of  good  order, 
and  seems  to  find  pleasure  in  wasting  time,  even  when 
he  does  not  enjoy  it.' 

'I  have  been  enjoying  my  time  just  now  at  least,' 
said  the  earl,  rising  from  table,  and  picking  his  teeth 
carelessly.  '  These  fresh  mullets  are  delicious,  and  so  is 
the  Lachrymas  Christi.  I  pray  you  to  sit  down  to  break- 
fast, Julian,  and  partake  the  goods  my  royal  foresight 
has  provided.  Never  was  King  of  Man  nearer  being  left 
to  the  mercy  of  the  execrable  brandy  of  his  dominions. 
Old  Griffiths  would  never,  in  the  midst  of  our  speedy 
retreat  of  last  night,  have  had  sense  enough  to  secure 

239 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  few  flasks,  had  I  not  given  him  a  hint  on  that  import- 
ant subject.  But  presence  of  mind  amid  danger  and 
tumult  is  a  jewel  I  have  always  possessed.' 

'I  wish,  then,  Philip,  you  would  exert  it  to  better 
purpose,'  said  the  countess,  half  smiling,  half  displeased; 
for  she  doted  upon  her  son  with  all  a  mother's  fondness, 
even  when  she  was  most  angry  with  him  for  being  de- 
ficient in  the  peculiar  and  chivalrous  disposition  which 
had  distinguished  his  father,  and  which  was  so  analog- 
ous to  her  own  romantic  and  high-minded  character. 
'Lend  me  your  signet,'  she  added  with  a  sigh;  'for  it 
were,  I  fear,  vain  to  ask  you  to  read  over  these  des- 
patches from  England,  and  execute  the  warrants  which 
I  have  thought  necessary  to  prepare  in  consequence.' 

'My  signet  you  shall  command  with  all  my  heart, 
madam,'  said  Earl  Philip;  'but  spare  me  the  revision 
of  what  you  are  much  more  capable  to  decide  upon. 
I  am,  you  know,  a  most  complete  roi  faineant,  and  never 
once  interfered  with  my  maire  de  palais  in  her  proceed- 
ings.' 

The  countess  made  signs  to  her  little  train-bearer, 
who  immediately  went  to  seek  for  wax  and  a  light,  with 
which  she  presently  returned. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  countess  continued,  addressing 
Peveril  —  'Philip  does  himself  less  than  justice.  When 
you  were  absent,  Julian,  for  if  you  had  been  here  I  would 
have  given  you  the  credit  of  prompting  your  friend, 
he  had  a  spirited  controversy  with  the  bishop,  for  an 
attempt  to  enforce  spiritual  censures  against  a  poor 
wretch,  by  confining  her  in  the  vault  under  the 
chapel.'  ^ 

*  See  Note  12. 

240 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*Do  not  think  better  of  me  than  I  deserve,'  said  the 
earl  to  Peveril;  'my  mother  has  omitted  to  tell  you  the 
culprit  was  pretty  Peggy  of  Ramsey,  and  her  crime 
what  in  Cupid's  courts  would  have  been  called  a 
peccadillo.' 

*Do  not  make  yourself  worse  than  you  are,'  rephed 
Peveril,  who  observed  the  countess's  cheek  redden; '  you 
know  you  would  have  done  as  much  for  the  oldest  and 
poorest  cripple  in  the  island.  Why,  the  vault  is  under 
the  burial-ground  of  the  chapel,  and,  for  aught  I  know, 
under  the  ocean  itself,  such  a  roaring  do  the  waves  make 
in  its  vicinity.  I  think  no  one  could  remain  there  long 
and  retain  his  reason.' 

'It  is  an  infernal  hole,'  answered  the  earl,  'and  I  will 
have  it  built  up  one  day,  that  is  full  certain.  But  hold 
—  hold;  for  God's  sake,  madam,  what  are  you  going  to 
do?  Look  at  the  seal  before  you  put  it  to  the  warrant; 
you  will  see  it  is  a  choice  antique  cameo,  Cupid  riding 
on  a  flying  fish.  I  had  it  for  twenty  zechins  from 
Signor  Furabosco  at  Rome  —  a  most  curious  matter  for 
an  antiquary,  but  which  will  add  little  faith  to  a  Manx 
warrant.' 

'How  can  you  trifle  thus,  you  simple  boy?'  said  the 
countess,  with  vexation  in  her  tone  and  look.  'Let  me 
have  your  signet;  or  rather,  take  these  warrants  and 
sign  them  yourself.' 

'My  signet  —  my  signet.  Oh!  you  mean  that  with 
the  three  monstrous  legs,  which  I  suppose  was  de- 
vised as  the  most  preposterous  device  to  present  our 
most  absurd  Majesty  of  Man.  The  signet  —  I  have  not 
seen  it  since  I  gave  it  to  Gibbon,  my  monkey,  to  play 
with.   He  did  whine  for  it  most  piteously.   I  hope  he 

27  241 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

has  not  gemmed  the  green  breast  of  ocean  with  my 
symbol  of  sovereignty!' 

'Now,  by  Heaven/  said  the  countess,  trembling  and 
colouring  deeply  with  anger,  'it  was  your  father's  signet, 
the  last  pledge  which  he  sent,  with  his  love  to  me  and 
his  blessing  to  thee,  the  night  before  they  murdered  him 
at  Bolton!' 

'Mother  —  dearest  mother,'  said  the  earl,  startled 
out  of  his  apathy,  and  taking  her  hand,  which  he  kissed 
tenderly,  '  I  did  but  jest :  the  signet  is  safe  —  Peveril 
knows  that  it  is  so.  Go  fetch  it,  Julian,  for  Heaven's 
sake,  here  are  my  keys;  it  is  in  the  left-hand  drawer  of 
my  travelling-cabinet.  Nay,  mother,  forgive  me,  it  was 
but  a  mauvaise  plaisanterie  —  only  an  ill-imagined  jest 
—  ungracious,  and  in  bad  taste,  I  allow,  but  only  one  of 
Philip's  follies.  Look  at  me,  dearest  mother,  and  forgive 
me!' 

The  countess  turned  her  eyes  towards  him,  from  which 
the  tears  were  fast  falling. 

'Philip,'  she  said,  'you  try  me  too  unkindly  and  too 
severely.  If  times  are  changed,  as  I  have  heard  you 
allege  —  if  the  dignity  of  rank,  and  the  high  feelings  of 
honour  and  duty,  are  now  drowned  in  giddy  jests  and 
trifling  pursuits  —  let  me  at  least,  who  live  secluded 
from  all  others,  die  without  perceiving  the  change  which 
has  happened,  and,  above  all,  without  perceiving  it  in 
mine  own  son.  Let  me  not  learn  the  general  prevalence 
of  this  levity,  which  laughs  at  every  sense  of  dignity  or 
duty,  through  your  personal  disrespect.  Let  me  not 
think  that  when  I  die  — ' 

'  Speak  nothing  of  it,  mother,'  said  the  earl,  interrupt- 
ing her  affectionately.   '  It  is  true,  I  cannot  promise  to 

242 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

be  all  my  father  and  his  fathers  were;  for  we  wear  silk 
vests  for  their  steel  coats,  and  feathered  beavers  for 
their  crested  helmets.  But  believe  me,  though  to  be  an 
absolute  Palmerin  of  England  is  not  in  my  nature,  no 
son  ever  loved  a  mother  more  dearly,  or  would  do  more 
to  oblige  her.  And  that  you  may  own  this,  I  will  forth- 
with not  only  seal  the  warrants,  to  the  great  endanger- 
ment  of  my  precious  fingers,  but  also  read  the  same  from 
end  to  end,  as  well  as  the  despatches  thereunto  apper- 
taining.' 

A  mother  is  easily  appeased,  even  when  most  offended ; 
and  it  was  with  an  expanding  heart  that  the  countess 
saw  her  son's  very  handsome  features,  while  reading 
these  papers,  settle  into  an  expression  of  deep  serious- 
ness, such  as  they  seldom  wore.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if 
the  family  likeness  to  his  gallant  but  unfortunate  father 
increased  when  the  expression  of  their  countenances 
became  similar  in  gravity.  The  earl  had  no  sooner 
perused  the  despatches,  which  he  did  with  great  atten- 
tion, than  he  rose  and  said,  'Julian,  come  with  me.' 

The  countess  looked  surprised.  *I  was  wont  to  share 
your  father's  counsels,  my  son,'  she  said;  'but  do  not 
think  that  I  wish  to  intrude  myself  upon  yours.  I  am 
too  well  pleased  to  see  you  assume  the  power  and  the 
duty  of  thinking  for  yourself,  which  is  what  I  have  so 
long  urged  you  to  do.  Nevertheless,  my  experience, 
who  have  been  so  long  administrator  of  your  authority 
in  Man,  might  not,  I  think,  be  superfluous  to  the  matter 
in  hand.' 

'Hold  me  excused,  dearest  mother,'  said  the  earl, 
gravely.  'The  interference  was  none  of  my  seeking;  had 
you  taken  your  own  course,  without  consulting  me,  it 

243 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

had  been  well ;  but  since  I  have  entered  on  the  affair  — 
and  it  appears  sufficiently  important  —  I  must  transact 
it  to  the  best  of  my  own  ability.' 

*Go,  then,  my  son,'  said  the  countess,  'and  may 
Heaven  enlighten  thee  with  its  counsel,  since  thou  wilt 
have  none  of  mine.  I  trust  that  you.  Master  Peveril, 
will  remind  him  of  what  is  fit  for  his  own  honour;  and 
that  only  a  coward  abandons  his  rights,  and  only  a  fool 
trusts  his  enemies.' 

The  earl  answered  not,  but,  taking  Peveril  by  the 
arm,  led  him  up  a  winding  stair  to  his  own  apartment, 
and  from  thence  into  a  projecting  turret,  where,  amidst 
the  roar  of  waves  and  sea-mews'  clang,  he  held  with  him 
the  following  conversation :  — 

'Peveril,  it  is  well  I  looked  into  these  warrants.  My 
mother  queens  it  at  such  a  rate  as  may  cost  me  not  only 
my  crown,  which  I  care  little  for,  but  perhaps  my  head, 
which,  though  others  may  think  little  of  it,  I  would  feel 
it  an  inconvenience  to  be  deprived  of.' 

'What  on  earth  is  the  matter? '  said  Peveril,  with  con- 
siderable anxiety. 

'It  seems,'  said  the  Earl  of  Derby, '  that  Old  England, 
who  takes  a  frolicsome  brain-fever  once  every  two  or 
three  years,  for  the  benefit  of  her  doctors,  and  the  pur- 
ification of  the  torpid  lethargy  brought  on  by  peace  and 
prosperity,  is  now  gone  stark  staring  mad  on  the  subject 
of  a  real  or  supposed  Popish  Plot.  I  read  one  programme 
on  the  subject,  by  a  fellow  called  Oates,  and  thought  it 
the  most  absurd  foolery  I  ever  perused.  But  that  cun- 
ning fellow  Shaftesbury,  and  some  others  amongst  the 
great  ones,  have  taken  it  up,  and  are  driving  on  at  such 
a  rate  as  makes  harness  crack  and  horses  smoke  for  it. 

244 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  King,  who  has  sworn  never  to  kiss  the  pillow  his 
father  went  to  sleep  on,  temporises  and  gives  way  to 
the  current;  the  Duke  of  York,  suspected  and  hated  on 
account  of  his  religion,  is  about  to  be  driven  to  the 
Continent;  several  principal  Catholic  nobles  are  in  the 
Tower  already;  and  the  nation,  like  a  bull  at  Tutbury 
running,  is  persecuted  with  so  many  inflammatory 
rumours  and  pestilent  pamphlets  that  she  has  cocked 
her  tail,  flung  up  her  heels,  taken  the  bit  between  her 
teeth,  and  is  as  furiously  unmanageable  as  in  the  year 
1642.' 

'All  this  you  must  have  known  already,'  said  Peveril; 
*I  wonder  you  told  me  not  of  news  so  important.' 

*It  would  have  taken  long  to  tell,'  said  the  earl; 
'moreover,  I  desired  to  have  you  solus ;  thirdly,  I  was 
about  to  speak  when  my  mother  entered ;  and,  to  con- 
clude, it  was  no  business  of  mine.  But  these  despatches 
of  my  politic  mother's  private  correspondent  put  a  new 
face  on  the  whole  matter;  for  it  seems  some  of  the  in- 
formers —  a  trade  which,  having  become  a  thriving 
one,  is  now  pursued  by  many  —  have  dared  to  glance 
at  the  countess  herself  as  an  agent  in  this  same  plot  — 
ay,  and  have  found  those  that  are  willing  enough  to 
believe  their  report.' 

'On  mine  honour,'  said  Peveril,  'you  both  take  it  with 
great  coolness.  I  think  the  countess  the  more  composed 
of  the  two;  for,  except  her  movement  hither,  she  exhib- 
ited no  mark  of  alarm,  and,  moreover,  seemed  no  way 
more  anxious  to  communicate  the  matter  to  your  lord- 
ship than  decency  rendered  necessary.' 

'My  good  mother,'  said  the  earl,  'loves  power,  though 
it  has  cost  her  dear.   I  wish  I  could  truly  say  that  my 

245 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

neglect  of  business  is  entirely  assumed  in  order  to  leave 
it  in  her  hands,  but  that  better  motive  combines  with 
natural  indolence.  But  she  seems  to  have  feared  I 
should  not  think  exactly  like  her  in  this  emergency,  and 
she  was  right  in  supposing  so.' 

'How  comes  the  emergency  upon  you?'  said  Julian; 
'and  what  form  does  the  danger  assume?' 

'Marry,  thus  it  is,'  said  the  earl:  'I  need  not  bid  you 
remember  the  affair  of  Colonel  Christian.  That  man, 
besides  his  widow,  who  is  possessed  of  large  property  — 
Dame  Christian  of  Kirk-Truagh,  whom  you  have  often 
heard  of,  and  perhaps  seen  —  left  a  brother  called 
Edward  Christian,  whom  you  never  saw  at  all.  Now 
this  brother  —  but  I  daresay  you  know  all  about  it?' 

'Not  I,  on  my  honour,'  said  Peveril;  'you  know  the 
countess  seldom  or  never  alludes  to  the  subject.' 

'Why,'  replied  the  earl,  'I  believe  in  her  heart  she  is 
something  ashamed  of  that  gallant  act  of  royalty  and 
supreme  jurisdiction,  the  consequences  of  which  maimed 
my  estate  so  cruelly.  Well,  cousin,  this  same  Edward 
Christian  was  one  of  the  dempsters  at  the  time,  and, 
naturally  enough,  was  unwilling  to  concur  in  the  sen- 
tence which  adjudged  his  aine  to  be  shot  like  a  dog.  My 
mother,  who  was  then  in  high  force,  and  not  to  be  con- 
trolled by  any  one,  would  have  served  the  dempster 
with  the  same  sauce  with  which  she  dressed  his  brother, 
had  he  not  been  wise  enough  to  fly  from  the  island. 
Since  that  time,  the  thing  has  slept  on  all  hands;  and 
though  we  knew  that  Dempster  Christian  made  occa- 
sionally secret  visits  to  his  friends  in  the  island,  along 
with  two  or  three  other  Puritans  of  the  same  stamp, 
and  particularly  a  prick-eared  rogue  called  Bridgenorth, 

246 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

brother-in-law  to  the  deceased,  yet  my  mother,  thank 
Heaven,  has  hitherto  had  the  sense  to  connive  at  them, 
though,  for  some  reason  or  other,  she  holds  this  Bridge- 
north  in  especial  disfavour.' 

'And  why/  said  Peveril,  forcing  himself  to  speak,  in 
order  to  conceal  the  very  unpleasant  surprise  which 
he  felt  —  'why  does  the  countess  now  depart  from  so 
prudent  a  line  of  conduct?' 

'You  must  know  the  case  is  now  different.  The  rogues 
are  not  satisfied  with  toleration:  they  would  have 
supremacy.  They  have  found  friends  in  the  present 
heat  of  the  popular  mind.  My  mother's  name,  and 
especially  that  of  her  confessor,  Aldrick  the  Jesuit,  have 
been  mentioned  in  this  beautiful  maze  of  a  plot,  which, 
if  any  such  at  all  exists,  she  knows  as  little  of  as  you  or 
I.  However,  she  is  a  Catholic,  and  that  is  enough;  and  I 
have  little  doubt  that,  if  the  fellows  could  seize  on  our 
scrap  of  a  kingdom  here,  and  cut  all  our  throats,  they 
would  have  the  thanks  of  the  present  House  of  Com- 
mons, as  willingly  as  old  Christian  had  those  of  the 
Rump  for  a  similar  service.' 

'From  whence  did  you  receive  all  this  information?' 
said  Peveril,  again  speaking,  though  by  the  same  effort 
which  a  man  makes  who  talks  in  his  sleep. 

'Aldrick  has  seen  the  Duke  of  York  in  secret,  and  his 
Royal  Highness,  who  wept  while  he  confessed  his  want 
of  power  to  protect  his  friends  —  and  it  is  no  trifle  will 
wring  tears  from  him  —  told  him  to  send  us  information 
that  we  should  look  to  our  safety,  for  that  Dempster 
Christian  and  Bridgenorth  were  in  the  island,  with 
secret  and  severe  orders ;  that  they  had  formed  a  con- 
siderable party  there,  and  were  likely  to  be  owned  and 

247 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

protected  in  anything  they  might  undertake  against  us. 
The  people  of  Ramsey  and  Castletown  are  unluckily 
discontented  about  some  new  regulation  of  the  imposts; 
and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  though  I  thought  yesterday's 
sudden  remove  a  whim  of  my  mother's,  I  am  almost 
satisfied  they  would  have  blockaded  us  in  Rushin  Castle, 
where  we  could  not  have  held  out  for  lack  of  provisions. 
Here  we  are  better  supplied,  and,  as  we  are  on  our  guard, 
it  is  Hkely  the  intended  rising  will  not  take  place.' 

'And  what  is  to  be  done  in  this  emergency?'  said 
Peveril. 

'That  is  the  very  question,  my  gentle  coz,'  answered 
the  earl.  *  My  mother  sees  but  one  way  of  going  to  work, 
and  that  is  by  royal  authority.  Here  are  the  warrants 
she  had  prepared,  to  search  for,  take,  and  apprehend 
the  bodies  of  Edward  Christian  and  Robert  —  no, 
Ralph  Bridgenorth,  and  bring  them  to  instant  trial. 
No  doubt,  she  would  soon  have  had  them  in  the  castle 
court,  with  a  dozen  of  the  old  matchlocks  levelled 
against  them  —  that  is  her  way  of  solving  all  sudden 
difl&culties.' 

'But  in  which,  I  trust,  you  do  not  acquiesce,  my 
lord,'  answered  Peveril,  whose  thoughts  instantly  re- 
verted to  Alice,  if  they  could  ever  be  said  to  be  absent 
from  her. 

'Truly,  I  acquiesce  in  no  such  matter,'  said  the  earl. 
'William  Christian's  death  cost  me  a  fair  half  of  my  in- 
heritance ;  I  have  no  fancy  to  fall  under  the  displeasure 
of  my  royal  brother.  King  Charles,  for  a  new  escapade 
of  the  same  kind.  But  how  to  pacify  my  mother,  I  know 
not.  I  wish  the  insurrection  would  take  place,  and  then, 
as  we  are  better  provided  than  they  can  be,  we  might 

248 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

knock  the  knaves  on  the  head ;  and  yet,  since  they  began 
the  fray,  we  should  keep  the  law  on  our  side.' 

'Were  it  not  better,'  said  Peveril,  'if  by  any  means 
these  men  could  be  induced  to  quit  the  island?' 

'Surely,'  replied  the  earl;  'but  that  will  be  no  easy 
matter:  they  are  stubborn  on  principle,  and  empty 
threats  will  not  move  them.  This  storm-blast  in  London 
is  wind  in  their  sails,  and  they  will  run  their  length,  you 
may  depend  on  it.  I  have  sent  orders,  however,  to  clap 
up  the  Manxmen  upon  whose  assistance  they  depended, 
and  if  I  can  find  the  two  worthies  themselves,  here  are 
sloops  enough  in  the  harbour:  I  will  take  the  freedom 
to  send  them  on  a  pretty  distant  voyage,  and  I  hope 
matters  will  be  settled  before  they  return  to  give  an 
account  of  it.' 

At  this  moment  a  soldier  belonging  to  the  garrison  ap- 
proached the  two  young  men,  with  many  bows  and 
tokens  of  respect.  'How  now,  friend?'  said  the  earl  to 
him.    'Leave  off  thy  courtesies  and  tell  thy  business.' 

The  man,  who  was  a  native  islander,  answered  in 
Manx  that  he  had  a  letter  for  his  honour.  Master  Julian 
Peveril.  Julian  snatched  the  billet  hastily,  and  asked 
whence  it  came. 

*It  was  delivered  to  him  by  a  young  woman,'  the 
soldier  replied,  'who  had  given  him  a  piece  of  money 
to  deliver  it  into  Master  Peveril's  own  hand.' 

'Thou  art  a  lucky  fellow,  Julian,'  said  the  earl.  'With 
that  grave  brow  of  thine,  and  thy  character  for  sobriety 
and  early  wisdom,  you  set  the  girls  a-wooing,  without 
waiting  till  they  are  asked;  whilst  I,  their  drudge  and 
vassal,  waste  both  language  and  leisure,  without  getting 
a  kind  word  or  look,  far  less  a  billet-doux.' 

249 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

This  the  young  earl  said  with  a  smile  of  conscious  tri- 
umph, as  in  fact  he  valued  himself  not  a  little  upon  the 
interest  which  he  supposed  himself  to  possess  with  the 
fair  sex. 

Meanwhile,  the  letter  impressed  on  Peveril  a  different 
train  of  thoughts  from  what  his  companion  apprehended. 
It  was  in  Alice's  hand,  and  contained  these  few  words: 

'I  fear  what  I  am  going  to  do  is  wrong;  but  I  must  see 
you.  Meet  me  at  noon  at  Goddard  Crovan's  Stone, 
with  as  much  secrecy  as  you  may.' 

The  letter  was  signed  only  with  the  initials  *  A.  B.';  but 
Julian  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising  the  handwriting, 
which  he  had  often  seen,  and  which  was  remarkably 
beautiful.  He  stood  suspended,  for  he  saw  the  difficulty 
and  impropriety  of  withdrawing  himself  from  the  count- 
ess and  his  friend  at  this  moment  of  impending  danger, 
and  yet  to  neglect  this  invitation  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.   He  paused  in  the  utmost  perplexity. 

'Shall  I  read  your  riddle?'  said  the  earl.  'Go  where 
love  calls  you  —  I  will  make  an  excuse  to  my  mother; 
only,  most  grave  anchorite,  be  hereafter  more  indulgent 
to  the  failings  of  others  than  you  have  been  hitherto,  and 
blaspheme  not  the  power  of  the  little  deity.' 

'Nay,  but,  cousin  Derby  — '  said  Peveril,  and  stopped 
short,  for  he  really  knew  not  what  to  say.  Secured  him- 
self by  a  virtuous  passion  from  the  contagious  influence 
of  the  time,  he  had  seen  with  regret  his  noble  kinsman 
mingle  more  in  its  irregularities  than  he  approved  of, 
and  had  sometimes  played  the  part  of  a  monitor. 

Circumstances  seemed  at  present  to  give  the  earl  a 
right  of  retaliation.  He  kept  his  eye  fixed  on  his  friend, 
as  if  he  waited  till  he  should  complete  his  sentence,  and 

250 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

at  length  exclaimed,  'What!  cousin,  quite  d  la  mort! 
O,  most  judicious  Julian!  O,  most  precise  Peveril!  have 
you  bestowed  so  much  wisdom  on  me  that  you  have 
none  left  for  yourself?  Come,  be  frank  —  tell  me  name 
and  place,  or  say  but  the  colour  of  the  eyes  of  the  most 
emphatic  she,  or  do  but  let  me  have  the  pleasure  to  hear 
thee  say,  "  I  love ! "  Confess  one  touch  of  human  frailty, 
conjugate  the  verb  amo,  and  I  will  be  a  gentle  school- 
master, and  you  shall  have,  as  Father  Richards  used  to 
say,  when  we  were  under  his  ferule,  "licentia  exeundi."  ' 

'Enjoy  your  pleasant  humour  at  my  expense,  my 
lord,'  said  Peveril.  *I  fairly  will  confess  thus  much,  that 
I  would  fain,  if  it  consisted  with  my  honour  and  your 
safety,  have  two  hours  at  my  own  disposal,  the  more 
especially  as  the  manner  in  which  I  shall  employ  them 
may  much  concern  the  safety  of  the  island.' 

'Very  likely,  I  daresay,'  answered  the  earl,  still  laugh- 
ing. 'No  doubt  you  are  summoned  out  by  some  Lady 
Politic  Wouldbe  of  the  isle,  to  talk  over  some  of  the 
breast-laws;  but  never  mind  —  go,  and  go  speedily,  that 
you  may  return  as  quick  as  possible.  I  expect  no  im- 
mediate explosion  of  this  grand  conspiracy.  When  the 
rogues  see  us  on  our  guard,  they  will  be  cautious  how 
they  break  out.  Only,  once  more,  make  haste.' 

Peveril  thought  this  last  advice  was  not  to  be 
neglected;  and,  glad  to  extricate  himself  from  the  rail- 
lery of  his  cousin,  walked  down  towards  the  gate  of 
the  castle,  meaning  to  cross  over  to  the  village,  and 
there  take  horse  at  the  earl's  stables  for  the  place  of 
rendezvous. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Acasto.  Can  she  not  speak? 

Oswald.  If  speech  be  only  in  accented  sounds, 
Framed  by  the  tongue  and  lips,  the  maiden's  dumb; 
But  if  by  quick  and  apprehensive  look. 
By  motion,  sign,  and  glance,  to  give  each  meaning, 
Express  as  clothed  in  language,  be  term'd  speech, 
She  hath  that  wondrous  faculty;  for  her  eyes, 
Like  the  bright  stars  of  heaven,  can  hold  discourse. 
Though  it  be  mute  and  soundless. 

Old  Play. 

At  the  head  of  the  first  flight  of  steps  which  descended 
towards  the  difficult  and  well-defended  entrance  of  the 
Castle  of  Holm-Peel,  Peveril  was  met  and  stopped  by 
the  countess's  train-bearer.  This  little  creature  —  for 
she  was  of  the  least  and  slightest  size  of  womankind  — 
was  exquisitely  well  formed  in  all  her  limbs,  which  the 
dress  she  usually  wore,  a  green  silk  tunic  of  a  peculiar 
form,  set  off  to  the  best  advantage.  Her  face  was  darker 
than  the  usual  hue  of  Europeans ;  and  the  profusion  of 
long  and  silken  hair  which,  when  she  undid  the  braids 
in  which  she  commonly  wore  it,  fell  down  almost  to  her 
ankles,  was  also  rather  a  foreign  attribute.  Her  coun- 
tenance resembled  a  most  beautiful  miniature;  and  there 
was  a  quickness,  decision,  and  fire  in  Fenella's  look,  and 
especially  in  her  eyes,  which  was  probably  rendered  yet 
more  alert  and  acute  because,  through  the  imperfection 
of  her  other  organs,  it  was  only  by  sight  that  she  could 
obtain  information  of  what  passed  around  her. 

The  pretty  mute  was  mistress  of  many  little  accom- 
plishments, which  the  countess  had  caused  to  be  taught 
to  her  in  compassion  for  her  forlorn  situation,  and 

252 


PEVEREL  OF  THE  PEAK 

which  she  had  learned  with  the  most  surprising  quick- 
ness. Thus,  for  example,  she  was  exquisite  in  the  use  of 
the  needle,  and  so  ready  and  ingenious  a  draughts- 
woman, that,  like  the  ancient  Mexicans,  she  sometimes 
made  a  hasty  sketch  with  her  pencil  the  means  of  con- 
veying her  ideas,  either  by  direct  or  emblematical  re- 
presentation. Above  all,  in  the  art  of  ornamental  writ- 
ing, much  studied  at  that  period,  Fenella  was  so  great 
a  proficient  as  to  rival  the  fame  of  Messrs.  Snow,  Shel- 
ley, and  other  masters  of  the  pen,  whose  copy-books, 
preserved  in  the  libraries  of  the  curious,  still  show  the 
artists  smiling  on  the  frontispiece  in  all  the  honours  of 
flowing  gowns  and  full-bottomed  wigs,  to  the  eternal 
glory  of  calligraphy. 

The  little  maiden  had,  besides  these  accomplishments, 
much  ready  wit  and  acuteness  of  intellect.  With  Lady 
Derby  and  with  the  two  young  gentlemen  she  was  a 
great  favourite,  and  used  much  freedom  in  conversing 
with  them  by  means  of  a  system  of  signs  which  had  been 
gradually  established  amongst  them,  and  which  served 
all  ordinary  purposes  of  communication. 

But,  though  happy  in  the  indulgence  and  favour  of  her 
mistress,  from  whom  indeed  she  was  seldom  separate, 
Fenella  was  by  no  means  a  favourite  with  the  rest  of  the 
household.  In  fact,  it  seemed  that  her  temper,  exas- 
perated perhaps  by  a  sense  of  her  misfortune,  was  by 
no  means  equal  to  her  abilities.  She  was  very  haughty 
in  her  demeanour,  even  towards  the  upper  domestics, 
who  in  that  establishment  were  of  a  much  higher  rank 
and  better  birth  than  in  the  families  of  the  nobility  in 
general.  These  often  complained,  not  only  of  her  pride 
and  reserve,  but  of  her  high  and  irascible  temper  and 

253 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

vindictive  disposition.  Her  passionate  propensity  had 
been  indeed  idly  encouraged  by  the  young  men,  and  par- 
ticularly by  the  earl,  who  sometimes  amused  himself 
with  teasing  her,  that  he  might  enjoy  the  various  sin- 
gular motions  and  murmurs  by  which  she  expressed  her 
resentment.  Towards  him,  these  were  of  course  only 
petulant  and  whimsical  indications  of  pettish  anger. 
But  when  she  was  angry  with  others  of  inferior  degree  — 
before  whom  she  did  not  control  herself  —  the  expres- 
sion of  her  passion,  unable  to  display  itself  in  language, 
had  something  even  frightful,  so  singular  were  the  tones, 
contortions,  and  gestures  to  which  she  had  recourse. 
The  lower  domestics,  to  whom  she  was  liberal  almost 
beyond  her  apparent  means,  observed  her  with  much 
deference  and  respect,  but  much  more  from  fear  than 
from  any  real  attachment ;  for  the  caprices  of  her  temper 
displayed  themselves  even  in  her  gifts;  and  those  who 
most  frequently  shared  her  bounty  seemed  by  no  means 
assured  of  the  benevolence  of  the  motives  which  dictated 
her  liberality. 

All  these  peculiarities  led  to  a  conclusion  consonant 
with  Manx  superstition.  Devout  believers  in  all  the 
legends  of  fairies  so  dear  to  the  Celtic  tribes,  the  Manx 
people  held  it  for  certainty  that  the  elves  were  in  the 
habit  of  carrying  off  mortal  children  before  baptism, 
and  leaving  in  the  cradle  of  the  new-born  babe  one  of 
their  own  brood,  which  was  almost  always  imperfect  in 
some  one  or  other  of  the  organs  proper  to  humanity. 
Such  a  being  they  conceived  Fenella  to  be;  and  the  small- 
ness  of  her  size,  her  dark  complexion,  her  long  locks  of 
silken  hair,  the  singularity  of  her  manners  and  tones,  as 
well  as  the  caprices  of  her  temper,  were  to  their  thinking 

254 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

all  attributes  of  the  irritable,  fickle,  and  dangerous  race 
from  which  they  supposed  her  to  be  sprung.  And  it 
seemed  that,  although  no  jest  appeared  to  offend  her 
more  than  when  Lord  Derby  called  her  in  sport  the 
Elfin  Queen,  or  otherwise  alluded  to  her  supposed  con- 
nexion with  *the  pigmy  folk,'  yet  still  her  perpetually 
affecting  to  wear  the  colour  of  green,  proper  to  the 
fairies,  as  well  as  some  other  peculiarities,  seemed  vol- 
untarily assumed  by  her,  in  order  to  countenance  the 
superstition,  perhaps  because  it  gave  her  more  authority 
among  the  lower  orders. 

Many  were  the  tales  circulated  respecting  the  count- 
ess's elf,  as  Fenella  was  currently  called  in  the  island; 
and  the  malcontents  of  the  stricter  persuasion  were  con- 
vinced that  no  one  but  a  Papist  and  a  Malignant  would 
have  kept  near  her  person  a  creature  of  such  doubtful 
origin.  They  conceived  that  Fenella's  deafness  and 
dumbness  were  only  towards  those  of  this  world,  and 
that  she  had  been  heard  talking,  and  singing,  and  laugh- 
ing most  elvishly  with  the  invisibles  of  her  own  race. 
They  alleged,  also,  that  she  had  a  'double,'  a  sort  of 
apparition  resembling  her,  which  slept  in  the  countess's 
ante-room,  or  bore  her  train,  or  wrought  in  her  cabinet, 
while  the  real  Fenella  joined  the  song  of  the  mermaids  on 
the  moonlight  sands,  or  the  dance  of  the  fairies  in  the 
haunted  valley  of  Glenmoy,  or  on  the  heights  of  Snae- 
fell  and  Barool.  The  sentinels,  too,  would  have  sworn 
they  had  seen  the  little  maiden  trip  past  them  in  their 
solitary  night-walks,  without  their  having  it  in  their 
power  to  challenge  her,  any  more  than  if  they  had  been 
as  mute  as  herself.  To  all  this  mass  of  absurdities  the 
better  informed  paid  no  more  attention  than  to  the 

255 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

usual  idle  exaggerations  of  the  vulgar,  which  so  fre- 
quently connect  that  which  is  unusual  with  what  is 
supernatural.^ 

Such,  in  form  and  habits,  was  the  little  female  who, 
holding  in  her  hand  a  small,  old-fashioned  ebony  rod, 
which  might  have  passed  for  a  divining-wand,  con- 
fronted Julian  on  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps  which  led 
down  the  rock  from  the  castle  court.  We  ought  to  ob- 
serve that,  as  Julian's  manner  to  the  unfortunate  girl 
had  been  always  gentle,  and  free  from  those  teasing  jests 
in  which  his  gay  friend  indulged,  with  less  regard  to  the 
peculiarity  of  her  situation  and  feelings,  so  Fenella, 
on  her  part,  had  usually  shown  much  greater  deference 
to  him  than  to  any  of  the  household,  her  mistress,  the 
countess,  always  excepted. 

On  the  present  occasion,  planting  herself  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  narrow  descent,  so  as  to  make  it  impossible 
for  Peveril  to  pass  by  her,  she  proceeded  to  put  him  to 
the  question  by  a  series  of  gestures,  which  we  will  en- 
deavour to  describe.  She  commenced  by  extending  her 
hand  slightly,  accompanied  with  the  sharp,  inquisitive 
look  which  served  her  as  a  note  of  interrogation.  This 
was  meant  as  an  inquiry  whether  he  was  going  to  a  dis- 
tance. Julian,  in  reply,  extended  his  arm  more  than  half, 
to  intimate  that  the  distance  was  considerable.  Fenella 
looked  grave,  shook  her  head,  and  pointed  to  the  count- 
ess's window,  whch  was  visible  from  the  spot  where 
they  stood.  Peveril  smiled  and  nodded,  to  intimate  there 
was  no  danger  in  quitting  her  mistress  for  a  short  space. 
The  little  maiden  next  touched  an  eagle's  feather  which 
she  wore  in  her  hair,  a  sign  which  she  usually  employed 

'  See  Note  13. 
256 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  designate  the  earl,  and  then  looked  inquisitively  at 
Julian  once  more,  as  if  to  say,  'Goes  he  with  you?' 
Peveril  shook  his  head,  and,  somewhat  wearied  by  these 
interrogatories,  smiled,  and  made  an  effort  to  pass. 
Fenella  frowned,  struck  the  end  of  her  ebony  rod  per- 
pendicularly on  the  ground,  and  again  shook  her  head, 
as  if  opposing  his  departure.  But  finding  that  Julian 
persevered  in  his  purpose,  she  suddenly  assumed  another 
and  a  milder  mood,  held  him  by  the  skirt  of  his  cloak 
with  one  hand,  and  raised  the  other  in  an  imploring 
attitude,  whilst  every  feature  of  her  lively  countenance 
was  composed  into  the  like  expression  of  supplication; 
and  the  fire  of  the  large  dark  eyes,  which  seemed  in  gen- 
eral so  keen  and  piercing  as  almost  to  over-animate  the 
little  sphere  to  which  they  belonged,  seemed  quenched, 
for  the  moment,  in  the  large  drops  which  hung  on  her 
long  eyelashes,  but  without  falling. 

Julian  Peveril  was  far  from  being  void  of  sympathy 
towards  the  poor  girl,  whose  motives  in  opposing  his 
departure  appeared  to  be  her  affectionate  apprehension 
for  her  mistress's  safety.  He  endeavoured  to  reassure 
her  by  smiles,  and,  at  the  same  time,  by  such  signs  as  he 
could  devise,  to  intimate  that  there  was  no  danger,  and 
that  he  would  return  presently;  and  having  succeeded 
in  extricating  his  cloak  from  her  grasp  and  in  passing  her 
on  the  stair,  he  began  to  descend  the  steps  as  speedily 
as  he  could,  in  order  to  avoid  further  importunity. 

But  with  activity  much  greater  than  his,  the  dumb 
maiden  hastened  to  intercept  him,  and  succeeded  by 
throwing  herself,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  life  and  limb, 
a  second  time  into  the  pass  which  he  was  descending,  so 
as  to  interrupt  his  purpose.  In  order  to  achieve  this,  she 
27  257 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

was  obliged  to  let  herself  drop  a  considerable  height  from 
the  wall  of  a  small  flanking  battery ,  where  twopatereroes 
were  placed  to  scour  the  pass,  in  case  any  enemy  could 
have  mounted  so  high.  Julian  had  scarce  time  to  shud- 
der at  her  purpose,  as  he  beheld  her  about  to  spring  from 
the  parapet,  ere,  like  a  thing  of  gossamer,  she  stood  light 
and  uninjured  on  the  rocky  platform  below.  He  endeav- 
oured, by  the  gravity  of  his  look  and  gesture,  to  make  her 
understand  how  much  he  blamed  her  rashness;  but  the 
reproof,  though  obviously  quite  intelligible,  was  entirely 
thrown  away.  A  hasty  wave  of  her  hand  intimated  how 
she  contemned  the  danger  and  the  remonstrance ;  while 
at  the  same  time  she  instantly  resumed,  with  more  eager- 
ness than  before,  the  earnest  and  impressive  gestures  by 
which  she  endeavoured  to  detain  him  in  the  fortress. 

Julian  was  somewhat  staggered  by  her  pertinacity. 
'Is  it  possible,'  he  thought,  'that  any  danger  can  ap- 
proach the  countess,  of  which  this  poor  maiden  has, 
by  the  extreme  acuteness  of  her  observation,  obtained 
knowledge  which  has  escaped  others?' 

He  signed  to  Fenella  hastily  to  give  him  the  tablets 
and  the  pencil  which  she  usually  carried  with  her,  and 
wrote  on  them  the  question,  'Is  there  danger  near  to 
your  mistress,  that  you  thus  stop  me? ' 

'There  is  danger  around  the  countess,'  was  the  answer 
instantly  written  down;  'but  there  is  much  more  in  your 
own  purpose.' 

'How!  what!  what  know  you  of  my  purpose?'  said 
Julian,  forgetting,  in  his  surprise,  that  the  party  he  ad- 
dressed had  neither  ear  to  comprehend  nor  voice  to  reply 
to  uttered  language.  She  had  regained  her  book  in  the 
mean  time,  and  sketched,  with  a  rapid  pencil,  on  one  of 

258 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  leaves,  a  scene  which  she  showed  to  Julian.  To  his 
infinite  surprise,  he  recognised  Goddard  Crovan's  Stone, 
a  remarkable  monument,  of  which  she  had  given  the 
outline  with  sufficient  accuracy;  together  with  a  male 
and  female  figure,  which,  though  only  indicated  by  a 
few  slight  touches  of  the  pencil,  bore  yet,  he  thought, 
some  resemblance  to  himself  and  Alice  Bridgenorth. 

When  he  had  gazed  on  the  sketch  for  an  instant  with 
surprise,  Fenella  took  the  book  from  his  hand,  laid  her 
finger  upon  the  drawing,  and  slowly  and  sternly  shook 
her  head,  with  a  frown  which  seemed  to  prohibit  the 
meeting  which  was  there  represented.  Julian,  however, 
though  disconcerted,  was  in  no  shape  disposed  to  submit 
to  the  authority  of  his  monitress.  By  whatever  means 
she,  who  so  seldom  stirred  from  the  countess's  apart- 
ment, had  become  acquainted  with  a  secret  which  he 
thought  entirely  his  own,  he  esteemed  it  the  more  neces- 
sary to  keep  the  appointed  rendezvous,  that  he  might 
learn  from  Alice,  if  possible,  how  the  secret  had  trans- 
pired. He  had  also  formed  the  intention  of  seeking  out 
Bridgenorth ;  entertaining  an  idea  that  a  person  so  rea- 
sonable and  calm  as  he  had  shown  himself  in  their  late 
conference  might  be  persuaded,  when  he  understood 
that  the  countess  was  aware  of  his  intrigues,  to  put  an 
end  to  her  danger  and  his  own  by  withdrawing  from  the 
island.  And  could  he  succeed  in  this  point,  he  should 
at  once,  he  thought,  render  a  material  benefit  to  the 
father  of  his  beloved  Alice,  remove  the  earl  from  his  state 
of  anxiety,  save  the  countess  from  a  second  time  putting 
her  feudal  jurisdiction  in  opposition  to  that  of  the  crown 
of  England,  and  secure  quiet  possession  of  the  island  to 
her  and  her  family 

259 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

With  this  scheme  of  mediation  in  his  mind,  Peveril 
determined  to  rid  himself  of  the  opposition  of  Fenella 
to  his  departure  with  less  ceremony  than  he  had  hitherto 
observed  towards  her;  and  suddenly  lifting  up  the 
damsel  in  his  arms  before  she  was  aware  of  his  purpose, 
he  turned  about,  set  her  down  on  the  steps  above  him, 
and  began  to  descend  the  pass  himself  as  speedily  as 
possible.  It  was  then  that  the  dumb  maiden  gave  full 
course  to  the  vehemence  of  her  disposition;  and,  clap- 
ping her  hands  repeatedly,  expressed  her  displeasure 
in  a  sound,  or  rather  a  shriek,  so  extremely  dissonant, 
that  it  resembled  more  the  cry  of  a  wild  creature  than 
anything  which  could  have  been  uttered  by  female  or- 
gans. Peveril  was  so  astounded  at  the  scream  as  it  rung 
through  the  living  rocks,  that  he  could  not  help  stop- 
ping and  looking  back  in  alarm,  to  satisfy  himself  that 
she  had  not  sustained  some  injury.  He  saw  her,  how- 
ever, perfectly  safe,  though  her  face  seemed  inflamed 
and  distorted  with  passion.  She  stamped  at  him  with 
her  foot,  shook  her  clenched  hand,  and,  turning  her 
back  upon  him  without  further  adieu,  ran  up  the  rude 
steps  as  lightly  as  a  kid  could  have  tripped  up  that  rug- 
ged ascent,  and  paused  for  a  moment  at  the  summit  of 
the  first  flight. 

Julian  could  feel  nothing  but  wonder  and  compassion 
for  the  impotent  passion  of  a  being  so  unfortunately  cir- 
cumstanced, cut  off,  as  it  were,  from  the  rest  of  man- 
kind, and  incapable  of  receiving  in  childhood  that  moral 
discipline  which  teaches  us  mastery  of  our  wa}^vard 
passions,  ere  yet  they  have  attained  their  meridian 
strength  and  violence.  He  waved  his  hand  to  her,  in 
token  of  amicable  farewell ;  but  she  only  replied  by  once 

260 


X  XJ  V  J-JXVXXJ       V^i-         X  XXXJ       X  Xl<iT.X^ 

more  menacing  him  with  her  little  hand  clenched ;  and 
then  ascending  the  rocky  staircase  with  almost  pre- 
ternatural speed,  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Julian,  on  his  part,  gave  no  further  consideration  to 
her  conduct  or  its  motives,  but  hastening  to  the  village 
on  the  mainland,  where  the  stables  of  the  castle  were 
situated,  he  again  took  his  palfrey  from  the  stall,  and 
was  soon  mounted  and  on  his  way  to  the  appointed  place 
of  rendezvous,  much  marvelling,  as  he  ambled  forward 
with  speed  far  greater  than  was  promised  by  the  diminu- 
tive size  of  the  animal  he  was  mounted  on,  what  could 
have  happened  to  produce  so  great  a  change  in  Alice's 
conduct  towards  him,  that,  in  place  of  enjoining  his 
absence  as  usual,  or  recommending  his  departure  from 
the  island,  she  should  now  voluntarily  invite  him  to  a 
meeting.  Under  impression  of  the  various  doubts  which 
succeeded  each  other  in  his  imagination,  he  sometimes 
pressed  Fairy's  sides  with  his  legs;  sometimes  laid  his 
holly  rod  lightly  on  her  neck ;  sometimes  incited  her  by 
his  voice,  for  the  mettled  animal  needed  neither  whip 
nor  spur;  and  achieved  the  distance  betwixt  the  Castle 
of  Holm-Peel  and  the  stone  at  Goddard  Crovan  at  the 
rate  of  twelve  miles  within  the  hour. 

The  monumental  stone,  designed  to  commemorate 
some  feat  of  an  ancient  king  of  Man  which  had  been 
long  forgotten,  was  erected  on  the  side  of  a  narrow, 
lonely  valley,  or  rather  glen,  secluded  from  observa- 
tion by  the  steepness  of  its  banks,  upon  a  projection  of 
which  stood  the  tall,  shapeless,  solitary  rock,  frowning, 
like  a  shrouded  giant,  over  the  brawling  of  the  small 
rivulet  which  watered  the  ravine. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

This  a  love-meeting?   See,  the  maiden  mourns, 
And  the  sad  suitor  bends  his  looiis  on  earth. 
There's  more  hath  pass'd  between  them  than  belongs 
To  love's  sweet  sorrows. 

Old  Play. 

As  he  approached  the  monument  of  Goddard  Crovan, 
Julian  cast  many  an  anxious  glance  to  see  whether  any 
object  visible  beside  the  huge  grey  stone  should  apprise 
him  whether  he  was  anticipated,  at  the  appointed  place 
of  rendezvous,  by  her  who  had  named  it.  Nor  was  it 
long  before  the  flutter  of  a  mantle,  which  the  breeze 
slightly  waved,  and  the  motion  necessary  to  replace  it 
upon  the  wearer's  shoulders,  made  him  aware  that  Alice 
had  already  reached  their  place  of  meeting.  One  instant 
set  the  palfrey  at  liberty,  with  slackened  girths  and 
loosened  reins,  to  pick  its  own  way  through  the  dell  at 
will ;  another  placed  Julian  Peveril  by  the  side  of  Alice 
Bridgenorth. 

That  Alice  should  extend  her  hand  to  her  lover,  as 
with  the  ardour  of  a  young  greyhound  he  bounded  over 
the  obstacles  of  the  rugged  path,  was  as  natural  as  that 
Julian,  seizing  on  the  hand  so  kindly  stretched  out, 
should  devour  it  with  kisses,  and,  for  a  moment  or  two, 
without  reprehension;  while  the  other  hand,  which 
should  have  aided  in  the  liberation  of  its  fellow,  served 
to  hide  the  blushes  of  the  fair  owner.  But  Alice,  young 
as  she  was,  and  attached  to  Julian  by  such  long  habits 
of  kindly  intimacy,  still  knew  well  how  to  subdue  the 
tendency  of  her  own  treacherous  affections. 

262 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'This  is  not  right,'  she  said,  extricating  her  hand  from 
JuHan's  grasp  —  'this  is  not  right,  Julian.  If  I  have 
been  too  rash  in  admitting  such  a  meeting  as  the  present, 
it  is  not  you  that  should  make  me  sensible  of  my  folly.' 

Julian  Peveril's  mind  had  been  early  illumined  with 
that  touch  of  romantic  fire  which  deprives  passion  of 
selfishness,  and  confers  on  it  the  high  and  refined  tone 
of  generous  and  disinterested  devotion.  He  let  go  the 
hand  of  Alice  with  as  much  respect  as  he  could  have 
paid  to  that  of  a  princess;  and  when  she  seated  herself 
upon  a  rocky  fragment,  over  which  nature  had  stretched 
a  cushion  of  moss  and  lichen,  interspersed  with  wild- 
flowers,  backed  with  a  bush  of  copsewood,  he  took  his 
place  beside  her,  indeed,  but  at  such  distance  as  to  in- 
timate .the  duty  of  an  attendant,  who  was  there  only 
to  hear  and  to  obey.  Alice  Bridgenorth  became  more 
assured  as  she  observed  the  power  which  she  possessed 
over  her  lover;  and  the  self-command  which  Peveril 
exhibited,  which  other  damsels  in  her  situation  might 
have  judged  inconsistent  with  intensity  of  passion,  she 
appreciated  more  justly,  as  a  proof  of  his  respectful  and 
disinterested  sincerity.  She  recovered,  in  addressing 
him,  the  tone  of  confidence  which  rather  belonged  to  the 
scenes  of  their  early  acquaintance  than  to  those  which 
had  passed  betwixt  them  since  Peveril  had  disclosed  his 
affection,  and  thereby  had  brought  restraint  upon  their 
intercourse. 

'Julian,'  she  said,  'your  visit  of  yesterday  —  your 
most  ill-timed  visit  —  has  distressed  me  much.  It  has 
misled  my  father  —  it  has  endangered  you.  At  all  risks, 
I  resolved  that  you  should  know  this,  and  blame  me 
not  if  I  have  taken  a  bold  and  imprudent  step  in  desir- 

263 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing  this  solitary  interview,  since  you  are  aware  how 
little  poor  Deborah  is  to  be  trusted.' 

'Can  you  fear  misconstruction  from  me,  Alice?'  re- 
plied Peveril,  warmly  —  '  from  me,  whom  you  have 
thus  highly  favoured  —  thus  deeply  obliged?' 

'Cease  your  protestations,  Julian,'  answered  the 
maiden,  'they  do  but  make  me  the  more  sensible  that  I 
have  acted  over  boldly.  But  I  did  for  the  best.  I  could 
not  see  you,  whom  I  have  known  so  long  —  you,  who 
say  you  regard  me  with  partiality  — ' 

'Say  that  I  regard  you  with  partiality!'  interrupted 
Peveril  in  his  turn.  'Ah,  Alice,  what  a  cold  and  doubtful 
phrase  you  have  used  to  express  the  most  devoted,  the 
most  sincere  affection ! ' 

'Well,  then,'  said  Alice,  sadly,  'we  will  not  quarrel 
about  words;  but  do  not  again  interrupt  me.  I  could 
not,  I  say,  see  you,  who,  I  believe,  regard  me  with 
sincere,  though  vain  and  fruitless,  attachment,  rush 
blindfold  into  a  snare,  deceived  and  seduced  by  those 
very  feelings  towards  me.' 

'I  understand  you  not,  Alice,'  said  Peveril;  'nor  can 
I  see  any  danger  to  which  I  am  at  present  exposed.  The 
sentiments  which  your  father  has  expressed  towards 
me  are  of  a  nature  irreconcilable  with  hostile  purposes. 
If  he  is  not  offended  with  the  bold  wishes  I  may  have 
formed,  and  his  whole  behaviour  shows  the  contrary, 
I  know  not  a  man  on  earth  from  whom  I  have  less  cause 
to  apprehend  any  danger  or  ill-will.' 

'My  father,'  said  Alice,  'means  well  by  his  country, 
and  well  by  you;  yet  I  sometimes  fear  he  may  rather 
injure  than  serve  his  good  cause;  and  still  more  do  I 
dread  that,  in  attempting  to  engage  you  as  an  auxiliary, 

264 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

he  may  forget  those  ties  which  ought  to  bind  you,  and 
I  am  sure  which  will  bind  you,  to  a  different  line  of 
conduct  from  his  own.' 

'You  lead  me  into  still  deeper  darkness,  Alice,'  an- 
swered Peveril.  'That  your  father's  especial  line  of  pol- 
itics differs  widely  from  mine,  I  know  well;  but  how 
many  instances  have  occurred,  even  during  the  bloody 
scenes  of  civil  warfare,  of  good  and  worthy  men  laying 
the  prejudice  of  party  affections  aside,  and  regarding 
each  other  with  respect,  and  even  with  friendly  attach- 
ment, without  being  false  to  principle  on  either  side?' 

'It  may  be  so,'  said  Alice;  'but  such  is  not  the  league 
which  my  father  desires  to  form  with  you,  and  that  to 
which  he  hopes  your  misplaced  partiality  towards  his 
daughter  may  afford  a  motive  for  your  forming  with 
him.' 

'And  what  is  it,'  said  Peveril,  'which  I  would  refuse, 
with  such  a  prospect  before  me? ' 

'  Treachery  and  dishonour ! '  replied  Alice — '  whatever 
would  render  you  unworthy  of  the  poor  boon  at  which 
you  aim  —  ay,  were  it  more  worthless  than  I  confess  it 
to  be.' 

'Would  your  father,'  said  Peveril,  as  he  unwillingly 
received  the  impression  which  Alice  designed  to  convey 
—  'would  he,  whose  views  of  duty  are  so  strict  and 
severe  —  would  he  wish  to  involve  me  in  aught  to  which 
such  harsh  epithets  as  treachery  and  dishonour  can  be 
applied  with  the  slightest  shadow  of  truth?' 

'Do  not  mistake  me,  Julian,'  replied  the  maiden;  'my 
father  is  incapable  of  requesting  aught  of  you  that  is 
not  to  his  thinking  just  and  honourable;  nay,  he  con- 
ceives that  he  only  claims  from  you  a  debt  which  is  due 

265 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  a  creature  to  the  Creator,  and  as  a  man  to  your  fellow- 
men.' 

'  So  guarded,  where  can  be  the  danger  of  our  inter- 
course?' replied  Julian.  'If  he  be  resolved  to  require, 
and  I  determined  to  accede  to,  nothing  save  what  flows 
from  conviction,  what  have  I  to  fear,  Alice?  And  how 
is  my  intercourse  with  your  father  dangerous?  Believe 
not  so;  his  speech  has  already  made  impression  on  me  in 
some  particulars,  and  he  listened  with  candour  and 
patience  to  the  objections  which  I  made  occasionally. 
You  do  Master  Bridgenorth  less  than  justice  in  con- 
founding him  with  the  unreasonable  bigots  in  policy 
and  religion,  who  can  listen  to  no  argument  but  what 
favours  their  own  prepossessions.' 

'Julian,'  replied  Alice,  'it  is  you  who  misjudge  my 
father's  powers,  and  his  purpose  with  respect  to  you, 
and  who  overrate  your  own  powers  of  resistance.  I  am 
but  a  girl,  but  I  have  been  taught  by  circumstances  to 
think  for  myself,  and  to  consider  the  character  of  those 
who  are  around  me.  My  father's  views  in  ecclesiastical 
and  civil  policy  are  as  dear  to  him  as  the  life  which  he 
cherishes  only  to  advance  them.  They  have  been,  with 
little  alteration,  his  companions  through  life.  They 
brought  him  at  one  period  into  prosperity,  and  when 
they  suited  not  the  times,  he  suffered  for  having  held 
them.  They  have  become  not  only  a  part,  but  the  very 
dearest  part,  of  his  existence.  If  he  shows  them  not  to 
you  at  first  in  the  inflexible  strength  which  they  have 
acquired  over  his  mind,  do  not  believe  that  they  are  the 
less  powerful.  He  who  desires  to  make  converts  must 
begin  by  degrees.  But  that  he  should  sacrifice  to  an 
inexperienced  young  man,  whose  ruling  motive  he  will 

266 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

term  a  childish  passion,  any  part  of  those  treasured 
principles  which  he  has  maintained  through  good  repute 
and  bad  repute  —  O,  do  not  dream  of  such  an  impossi- 
bility! If  you  meet  at  all,  you  must  be  the  wax,  he  the 
seal:  you  must  receive,  he  must  bestow,  an  absolute 
impression.' 

'That,'  said  Peveril,  'were  unreasonable.  I  will 
frankly  avow  to  you,  Alice,  that  I  am  not  a  sworn  bigot 
to  the  opinions  entertained  by  my  father,  much  as  I 
respect  his  person.  I  could  wish  that  our  Cavaliers,  or 
whatsoever  they  are  pleased  to  call  themselves,  would 
have  some  more  charity  towards  those  who  differ  from 
them  in  church  and  state.  But  to  hope  that  I  would 
surrender  the  principles  in  which  I  have  lived  were  to 
suppose  me  capable  of  deserting  my  benefactress,  and 
breaking  the  hearts  of  my  parents.' 

'Even  so  I  judged  of  you,'  answered  Alice;  'and, 
therefore,  I  asked  this  interview,  to  conjure  that  you 
will  break  off  all  intercourse  with  our  family  —  return 
to  your  parents  —  or,  what  will  be  much  safer,  visit  the 
Continent  once  more,  and  abide  till  God  sends  better 
days  to  England,  for  these  are  black  with  many  a 
storm.' 

'And  can  you  bid  me  go,  Alice,'  said  the  young  man, 
taking  her  unresisting  hand  —  'can  you  bid  me  go,  and 
yet  own  an  interest  in  my  fate?  Can  you  bid  me,  for 
fear  of  dangers  which,  as  a  man,  as  a  gentleman,  and  a 
loyal  one,  I  am  bound  to  show  my  face  to,  meanly 
abandon  my  parents,  my  friends,  my  country,  suffer 
the  existence  of  evils  which  I  might  aid  to  prevent,  forego 
the  prospect  of  doing  such  little  good  as  might  be  in  my 
power,  fall  from  an  active  and  honourable  station  into 

267 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  condition  of  a  fugitive  and  time-server.  Can  you 
bid  me  do  all  this,  Alice?  —  can  you  bid  me  do  all  this, 
and,  in  the  same  breath,  bid  farewell  for  ever  to  you 
and  happiness?  It  is  impossible :  I  cannot  surrender  at 
once  my  love  and  my  honour.' 

'There  is  no  remedy,'  said  Alice,  but  she  could  not 
suppress  a  sigh  while  she  said  so  —  '  there  is  no  remedy, 
none  whatever.  What  we  might  have  been  to  each 
other,  placed  in  more  favourable  circumstances,  it 
avails  not  to  think  of  now;  and,  circumstanced  as  we 
are,  with  open  war  about  to  break  out  betwixt  our 
parents  and  friends,  we  can  be  but  well-wishers  —  cold 
and  distant  well-wishers,  who  must  part  on  this  spot, 
and  at  this  hour,  never  to  meet  again.' 

'No,  by  Heaven!'  said  Peveril,  animated  at  the  same 
time  by  his  own  feelings  and  by  the  sight  of  the  emo- 
tions which  his  companion  in  vain  endeavoured  to  sup- 
press—  'no,  by  Heaven!'  he  exclaimed,  'we  part  not 
—  Alice,  we  part  not.  If  I  am  to  leave  my  native  land, 
you  shall  be  my  companion  in  my  exile.  What  have  you 
to  lose?  Wliom  have  you  to  abandon?  Your  father? 
The  good  old  cause,  as  it  is  termed,  is  dearer  to  him 
than  a  thousand  daughters;  and  setting  him  aside,  what 
tie  is  there  between  you  and  this  barren  isle  —  between 
my  Alice  and  any  spot  of  the  British  dominions  where 
her  Julian  does  not  sit  by  her? ' 

'Oh,  Julian,'  answered  the  maiden,  'why  make  my 
duty  more  painful  by  visionary  projects,  which  you 
ought  not  to  name  or  I  to  listen  to?  Your  parents!  my 
father!  it  cannot  be.' 

'Fear  not  for  my  parents,  Alice,'  replied  Julian,  and 
pressing  close  to  his  companion's  side,  he  ventured  to 

268 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

throw  his  arm  around  her;  'they  love  me,  and  they  will 
soon  learn  to  love  in  Alice  the  only  being  on  earth  who 
could  have  rendered  their  son  happy.  And  for  your  own 
father,  when  state  and  church  intrigues  allow  him  to 
bestow  a  thought  upon  you,  will  he  not  think  that  your 
happiness,  your  security,  is  better  cared  for  when  you 
are  my  wife  than  were  you  to  continue  under  the  mer- 
cenary charge  of  yonder  foolish  woman?  What  could  his 
pride  desire  better  for  you  than  the  establishment  which 
will  one  day  be  mine?  Come  then,  Alice,  and  since  you 
condemn  me  to  banishment  —  since  you  deny  me  a  share 
in  those  stirring  achievements  which  are  about  to  agi- 
tate England  —  come!  do  you,  for  you  only  can  —  do 
you  reconcile  me  to  exile  and  inaction,  and  give  happi- 
ness to  one  who,  for  your  sake,  is  willing  to  resign 
honour ! ' 

'It  cannot — it  cannot  be,'  said  Alice,  faltering  as  she 
uttered  her  negative.  'And  yet,'  she  said,  'how  many  in 
my  place —  left  alone  and  unprotected  as  I  am —  But 
I  must  not —  I  must  not  —  for  your  sake,  Julian,  I 
must  not!' 

'Say  not  for  my  sake  you  must  not,  Alice,'  said 
Peveril,  eagerly; '  this  is  adding  insult  to  cruelty.  If  you 
will  do  aught  for  my  sake,  you  will  say  "yes";  or  you 
will  suffer  this  dear  head  to  drop  on  my  shoulder —  the 
slightest  sign —  the  moving  of  an  eyelid,  shall  signify 
consent.  All  shall  be  prepared  within  an  hour;  within 
another  the  priest  shall  unite  us;  and  within  a  third  we 
leave  the  isle  behind  us,  and  seek  our  fortunes  on  the 
Continent.'  But  while  he  spoke,  in  joyful  anticipation 
of  the  consent  which  he  implored,  Alice  found  means  to 
collect  together  her  resolution,  which,  staggered  by  the 

269 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

eagerness  of  her  lover,  the  impulse  of  her  own  affections, 
and  the  singularity  of  her  situation  —  seeming,  in  her 
case,  to  justify  what  would  have  been  most  blameable 
in  another  —  had  more  than  half  abandoned  her. 

The  result  of  a  moment's  deliberation  was  fatal  to 
Julian's  proposal.  She  extricated  herself  from  the  arm 
which  had  pressed  her  to  his  side,  arose,  and  repelling 
his  attempts  to  approach  or  detain  her,  said,  with  a  sim- 
pHcity  not  unmingled  with  dignity,  'Julian,  I  always 
knew  I  risked  much  in  inviting  you  to  this  meeting ;  but 
I  did  not  guess  that  I  could  have  been  so  cruel  both  to 
you  and  to  myself  as  to  suffer  you  to  discover  what  you 
have  to-day  seen  too  plainly —  that  I  love  you  better 
than  you  love  me.  But  since  you  do  know  it,  I  will  show 
you  that  Alice's  love  is  disinterested.  She  will  not  bring 
an  ignoble  name  into  your  ancient  house.  If  hereafter, 
in  your  line,  there  should  arise  some  who  may  think  the 
claims  of  the  hierarchy  too  exorbitant,  the  powers  of  the 
crown  too  extensive,  men  shall  not  say  these  ideas  were 
derived  from  Alice  Bridgenorth,  their  Whig  grand-dame.' 

*Can  you  speak  thus,  Alice?'  said  her  lover — 'can 
you  use  such  expressions?  and  are  you  not  sensible  that 
they  show  plainly  it  is  your  own  pride,  not  regard  for 
me,  that  makes  you  resist  the  happiness  of  both?' 

'Not  so,  Julian — not  so,'  answered  Alice,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes;  'it  is  the  command  of  duty  to  us  both  —  of 
duty,  which  we  cannot  transgress  without  risking  our 
happiness  here  and  hereafter.  Think  what  I,  the  cause 
of  all,  should  feel  when  your  father  frowns,  your  mother 
weeps,  your  noble  friends  stand  aloof,  and  you,  even 
you  yourself,  shall  have  made  the  painful  discovery  that 
you  have  incurred  the  contempt  and  resentment  of  all 

270 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  satisfy  a  boyish  passion;  and  that  the  poor  beauty, 
once  sufficient  to  mislead  you,  is  gradually  declining 
under  the  influence  of  grief  and  vexation !  This  I  will 
not  risk.  I  see  distinctly  it  is  best  we  should  here  break 
off  and  part;  and  I  thank  God,  who  gives  me  light  enough 
to  perceive, and  strength  enough  to  withstand,  your  folly 
as  well  as  my  own.  Farewell  then,  Julian;  but  first  take 
the  solemn  advice  which  I  called  you  hither  to  impart 
to  you:  Shun  my  father;  you  cannot  walk  in  his  paths 
and  be  true  to  gratitude  and  to  honour.  What  he  doth 
from  pure  and  honourable  motives  you  cannot  aid  him 
in,  except  upon  the  suggestion  of  a  silly  and  interested 
passion,  at  variance  with  all  the  engagements  you  have 
formed  at  coming  into  life.' 

'Once  more,  AHce,'  answered  Julian,  *I  understand 
you  not.  If  a  course  of  action  is  good,  it  needs  no  vindi- 
cation from  the  actor's  motives;  if  bad,  it  can  derive 
none.' 

'You  cannot  blind  me  with  your  sophistry,  Julian,' 
replied  Alice  Bridgenorth,  'any  more  than  you  can  over- 
power me  with  your  passion.  Had  the  patriarch  des- 
tined his  son  to  death  upon  any  less  ground  than  faith 
and  humble  obedience  to  a  Divine  commandment,  he 
had  meditated  a  murder  and  not  a  sacrifice.  In  our  late 
bloody  and  lamentable  wars,  how  many  drew  swords 
on  either  side  from  the  purest  and  most  honourable 
motives?  How  many  from  the  culpable  suggestions  of 
ambition,  self-seeking,  and  love  of  plunder?  Yet,  while 
they  marched  in  the  same  ranks,  and  spurred  their 
horses  at  the  same  trumpet-sound,  the  memory  of  the 
former  is  dear  to  us  as  patriots  or  loyalists;  that  of  those 
who  acted  on  mean  or  unworthy  promptings  is  either 

271 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

execrated  or  forgotten.  Once  more,  I  warn  you,  avoid 
my  father;  leave  this  island,  which  will  be  soon  agitated 
by  strange  incidents;  while  you  stay,  be  on  your  guard: 
distrust  everything,  be  jealous  of  every  one,  even  of 
those  to  whom  it  may  seem  almost  impossible,  from  cir- 
cumstances, to  attach  a  shadow  of  suspicion;  trust  not 
the  very  stones  of  the  most  secret  apartment  in  Holm- 
Peel,  for  that  which  hath  wings  shall  carry  the  matter.' 

Here  Alice  broke  off  suddenly,  and  with  a  faint  shriek; 
for,  stepping  from  behind  the  stunted  copse  which  had 
concealed  him,  her  father  stood  unexpectedly  before 
them. 

The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten  that  this  was  the 
second  time  in  which  the  stolen  interviews  of  the  lovers 
had  been  interrupted  by  the  unexpected  apparition  of 
Major  Bridgenorth.  On  this  second  occasion  his  coun- 
tenance exhibited  anger  mixed  with  solemnity,  like  that 
of  the  spirit  to  a  ghost-seer,  whom  he  upbraids  with 
having  neglected  a  charge  imposed  at  their  first  meeting. 
Even  his  anger,  however,  produced  no  more  violent 
emotion  than  a  cold  sternness  of  manner  in  his  speech 
and  action.  *I  thank  you,  Alice,'  he  said  to  his  daugh- 
ter, 'for  the  pains  you  have  taken  to  traverse  my  de- 
signs towards  this  young  man  and  towards  yourself, 
I  thank  you  for  the  hints  you  have  thrown  out  before 
my  appearance,  the  suddenness  of  which  alone  has 
prevented  you  from  carrying  your  confidence  to  a  pitch 
which  would  have  placed  my  life  and  that  of  others  at 
the  discretion  of  a  boy,  who,  when  the  cause  of  God  and 
his  country  is  laid  before  him,  has  not  leisure  to  think 
of  them,  so  much  is  he  occupied  with  such  a  baby-face 
as  thine.'  Alice,  pale  as  death,  continued  motionless, 

272 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  without  attempting 
the  slightest  reply  to  the  ironical  reproaches  of  her 
father. 

'And  you,'  continued  Major  Bridgenorth,  turning 
from  his  daughter  to  her  lover  —  'you,  sir,  have  well 
repaid  the  liberal  confidence  which  I  placed  in  you  with 
so  little  reserve.  You  I  have  to  thank  also  for  some  les- 
sons, which  may  teach  me  to  rest  satisfied  with  the 
churl's  blood  which  nature  has  poured  into  my  veins, 
and  with  the  rude  nurture  which  my  father  allotted  to 
me.' 

*I  understand  you  not,  sir,'  replied  Julian  Peveril, 
who,  feeling  the  necessity  of  saying  something,  could 
not,  at  the  moment,  find  anything  more  fitting  to  say. 

'Yes,  sir,  I  thank  you,'  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  in 
the  same  cold,  sarcastic  tone,  'for  having  shown  me 
that  breach  of  hospitality,  infringement  of  good  faith, 
and  such-like  peccadilloes,  are  not  utterly  foreign  to  the 
mind  and  conduct  of  the  heir  of  a  knightly  house  of 
twenty  descents.  It  is  a  great  lesson  to  me,  sir;  for  hith- 
erto I  had  thought  with  the  vulgar  that  gentle  manners 
went  with  gentle  blood.  But  perhaps  courtesy  is  too 
chivalrous  a  quality  to  be  wasted  in  intercourse  with  a 
Round-headed  fanatic  like  myself.' 

'Major  Bridgenorth,'  said  Julian,  'whatever  has  hap- 
pened in  this  interview  which  may  have  displeased  you 
has  been  the  result  of  feelings  suddenly  and  strongly 
animated  by  the  crisis  of  the  moment :  nothing  was  pre- 
meditated.' 

'Not  even  your  meeting,  I  suppose?'  replied  Bridge- 
north,  in  the  same  cold  tone.  'You,  sir,  wandered  hither 
from  Holm-Peel,  my  daughter  strolled  forth  from  the 
87  273 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Black  Fort ;  and  chance,  doubtless,  assigned  you  a  meet- 
ing by  the  stone  of  Goddard  Crovan?  Young  man,  dis- 
grace yourself  by  no  more  apologies ;  they  are  worse  than 
useless.  And  you,  maiden,  who,  in  your  fear  of  losing 
your  lover,  could  verge  on  betraying  what  might  have 
cost  a  father  his  life,  begone  to  your  home.  I  will  talk 
with  you  at  more  leisure,  and  teach  you  practically 
those  duties  which  you  seem  to  have  forgotten.' 

'On  my  honour,  sir,'  said  Julian,  'your  daughter  is 
guiltless  of  all  that  can  offend  you:  she  resisted  every 
offer  which  the  headstrong  violence  of  my  passion  urged 
me  to  press  upon  her.' 

'And,  in  brief,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'I  am  not  to  believe 
that  you  have  met  in  this  remote  place  of  rendezvous 
by  Alice's  special  appointment?' 

Peveril  knew  not  what  to  reply,  and  Bridgenorth 
again  signed  with  his  hand  to  his  daughter  to  withdraw. 

'I  obey  you,  father,'  said  Alice,  who  had  by  this  time 
recovered  from  the  extremity  of  her  surprise  —  '  I  obey 
you;  but  Heaven  is  my  witness  that  you  do  me  more 
than  injustice  in  suspecting  me  capable  of  betraying 
your  secrets,  even  had  it  been  necessary  to  save  my  own 
life  or  that  of  Julian.  That  you  are  walking  in  a  danger- 
ous path  I  well  know;  but  you  do  it  with  your  eyes  open, 
and  are  actuated  by  motives  of  which  you  can  estimate 
the  worth  and  value.  My  sole  wish  was,  that  this 
young  man  should  not  enter  blindfold  on  the  same  per- 
ils; and  I  had  a  right  to  warn  him,  since  the  feelings  by 
which  he  is  hoodwinked  had  a  direct  reference  to  me.' 

"Tis  well,  minion,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'you  have 
spoken  your  say.  Retire,  and  let  me  complete  the  con- 
ference which  you  have  so  considerately  commenced.' 

274 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*I  go,  sir/  said  Alice.  'Julian,  to  you  my  last  words 
are,  and  I  would  speak  them  with  my  last  breath  — 
"  Farewell,  and  caution  " ! ' 

She  turned  from  them,  disappeared  among  the  under- 
wood, and  was  seen  no  more. 

*A  true  specimen  of  womankind,'  said  her  father, 
looking  after  her,  'who, would  give  the  cause  of  nations 
up,  rather  than  endanger  a  hair  of  her  lover's  head. 
You,  Master  Peveril,  doubtless,  hold  her  opinion,  that 
the  best  love  is  a  safe  love? ' 

'Were  danger  alone  in  my  way,'  said  Peveril,  much 
surprised  at  the  softened  tone  in  which  Bridgenorth 
made  this  observation,  'there  are  few  things  which  I 
would  not  face  to  —  to  —  deserve  your  good  opinion.' 

'Or  rather  to  win  my  daughter's  hand,'  said  Bridge- 
north.  'Well,  young  man,  one  thing  has  pleased  me  in 
your  conduct,  though  of  much  I  have  my  reasons  to 
complain  —  one  thing  has  pleased  me.  You  have  sur- 
mounted that  bounding  wall  of  aristocratical  pride,  in 
which  your  father,  and,  I  suppose,  his  fathers,  remained 
imprisoned,  as  in  the  precincts  of  a  feudal  fortress  — 
you  have  leaped  over  this  barrier,  and  shown  yourself 
not  unwilling  to  ally  yourself  with  a  family  whom  your 
father  spurns  as  low-born  and  ignoble.' 

However  favourable  this  speech  sounded  towards 
success  in  his  suit,  it  so  broadly  stated  the  consequences 
of  that  success  so  far  as  his  parents  were  concerned, 
that  Julian  felt  it  in  the  last  degree  difficult  to  reply. 
At  length,  perceiving  that  Major  Bridgenorth  seemed 
resolved  quietly  to  await  his  answer,  he  mustered  up  cour- 
age to  say,  '  The  feelings  which  I  entertain  towards  your 
daughter,  Master  Bridgenorth,  are  of  a  nature  to  super- 

275 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

sede  many  other  considerations,  to  which,  in  any  other 
case,  I  should  feel  it  my  duty  to  give  the  most  reveren- 
tial attention,  I  will  not  disguise  from  you,  that  my 
father's  prejudices  against  such  a  match  would  be  very 
strong ;  but  I  devoutly  believe  they  would  disappear  when 
he  came  to  know  the  merit  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  and  to 
be  sensible  that  she  only  could  make  his  son  happy.' 

*In  the  meanwhile,  you  are  desirous  to  complete  the 
union  which  you  propose  without  the  knowledge  of  your 
parents,  and  take  the  chance  of  their  being  hereafter 
reconciled  to  it?  So  I  understand,  from  the  proposal 
which  you  made  but  lately  to  my  daughter.' 

The  turns  of  human  nature,  and  of  human  passion, 
are  so  irregular  and  uncertain,  that,  although  Julian  had 
but  a  few  minutes  before  urged  to  Alice  a  private  mar- 
riage, and  an  elopement  to  the  Continent,  as  a  measure 
upon  which  the  whole  happiness  of  his  life  depended, 
the  proposal  seemed  not  to  him  half  so  delightful  when 
stated  by  the  calm,  cold,  dictatorial  accents  of  her 
father.  It  sounded  no  longer  like  the  dictates  of  ardent 
passion,  throwing  all  other  considerations  aside,  but  as 
a  distinct  surrender  of  the  dignity  of  his  house  to  one  who 
seemed  to  consider  their  relative  situation  as  the  triumph 
of  Bridgenorth  over  Peveril.  He  was  mute  for  a  mo- 
ment, in  the  vain  attempt  to  shape  his  answer  so  as  at 
once  to  intimate  acquiescence  in  what  Bridgenorth 
stated  and  a  vindication  of  his  own  regard  for  his  par- 
ents and  for  the  honour  of  his  house. 

This  delay  gave  rise  to  suspicion,  and  Bridgenorth's 
eye  gleamed  and  his  lip  quivered  while  he  gave  vent  to 
it.  *  Hark  ye,  young  man  —  deal  openly  with  me  in  this 
matter,  if  you  would  not  have  me  think  you  the  exe- 

276 


\ 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

crable  villain  who  would  have  seduced  an  unhappy  girl 
under  promises  which  he  never  designed  to  fulfil.  Let 
me  but  suspect  this,  and  you  shall  see,  on  the  spot,  how 
far  your  pride  and  your  pedigree  will  preserve  you 
against  the  just  vengeance  of  a  father.' 

'You  do  me  wrong,'  said  Peveril  —  'you  do  me  in- 
finite wrong.  Major  Bridgenorth.  I  am  incapable  of  the 
infamy  which  you  allude  to.  The  proposal  I  made  to 
your  daughter  was  as  sincere  as  ever  was  offered  by  man 
to  woman.  I  only  hesitated,  because  you  think  it  neces- 
sary to  examine  me  so  very  closely,  and  to  possess  your- 
self of  all  my  purposes  and  sentiments,  in  their  fullest 
extent,  without  explaining  to  me  the  tendency  of  your 
own.' 

'Your  proposal,  then,  shapes  itself  thus,'  said  Bridge- 
north  :  '  you  are  willing  to  lead  my  only  child  into  exile 
from  her  native  country,  to  give  her  a  claim  to  kindness 
and  protection  from  your  family,  which  you  know  will 
be  disregarded,  on  condition  I  consent  to  bestow  her 
hand  on  you,  with  a  fortune  sufficient  to  have  matched 
that  of  your  ancestors,  when  they  had  most  reason  to 
boast  of  their  wealth.  This,  young  man,  seems  no  equal 
bargain.  And  yet,'  he  continued,  after  a  momentary 
pause,  '  so  little  do  I  value  the  goods  of  this  world,  that 
it  might  not  be  utterly  beyond  thy  power  to  reconcile 
me  to  the  match  which  you  have  proposed  to  me,  how- 
ever unequal  it  may  appear.' 

'  Show  me  but  the  means  which  can  propitiate  your 
favour.  Major  Bridgenorth,'  said  Peveril,  'for  I  will  not 
doubt  that  they  will  be  consistent  with  my  honour  and 
duty,  and  you  shall  soon  see  how  eagerly  I  will  obey  your 
directions,  or  submit  to  your  conditions.' 

277 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'They  are  summed  in  few  words,'  answered  Bridge- 
north  :  '  be  an  honest  man,  and  the  friend  of  your  coun- 
try.' 

'  No  one  has  ever  doubted,'  rephed  Peveril, '  that  I  am 
both.' 

'Pardon  me,'  rephed  the  major;  'no  one  has  as  yet 
seen  you  show  yourself  either.  Interrupt  me  not  —  I 
question  not  your  will  to  be  both ;  but  you  have  hitherto 
neither  had  the  light  nor  the  opportunity  necessary  for 
the  display  of  your  principles  or  the  service  of  your 
country.  You  have  lived  when  an  apathy  of  mind,  suc- 
ceeding to  the  agitations  of  the  Civil  War,  had  made 
men  indifferent  to  state  affairs,  and  more  willing  to  cul- 
tivate their  own  ease  than  to  stand  in  the  gap  when  the 
Lord  was  pleading  with  Israel.  But  we  are  Englishmen; 
and  with  us  such  unnatural  lethargy  cannot  continue 
long.  Already,  many  of  those  who  most  desired  the  re- 
turn of  Charles  Stuart  regard  him  as  a  king  whom  Hea- 
ven, importuned  by  our  entreaties,  gave  to  us  in  His 
anger.  His  unlimited  license  —  an  example  so  readily 
followed  by  the  young  and  the  gay  around  him — has 
disgusted  the  minds  of  all  sober  and  thinking  men.  I  had 
not  now  held  conference  with  you  in  this  intimate  fash- 
ion, were  I  not  aware  that  you.  Master  JuHan,  were  free 
from  such  stain  of  the  times.  Heaven,  that  rendered  the 
King's  course  of  license  fruitful,  has  denied  issue  to  his 
bed  of  wedlock ;  and  in  the  gloomy  and  stern  character 
of  his  bigoted  successor  we  already  see  what  sort  of  mon- 
arch shall  succeed  to  the  crown  of  England.  This  is  a 
critical  period,  at  which  it  necessarily  becomes  the  duty 
of  all  men  to  step  forward,  each  in  his  degree,  and  aid 
in  rescuing  the  country  which  gave  us  birth.'    Peveril 

278 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

remembered  the  warning  which  he  had  received  from 
Alice,  and  bent  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  without  return- 
ing any  reply.  'How  is  it,  young  man,'  continued 
Bridgenorth,  after  a  pause,  'so  young  as  thou  art,  and 
bound  by  no  ties  of  kindred  profligacy  with  the  enemies 
of  your  country,  you  can  be  already  hardened  to  the 
claims  she  may  form  on  you  at  this  crisis?' 

'It  were  easy  to  answer  you  generally.  Major  Bridge- 
north,'  replied  Peveril  —  'it  were  easy  to  say  that  my 
country  cannot  make  a  claim  on  me  which  I  will  not 
promptly  answer  at  the  risk  of  lands  and  life.  But  in 
dealing  thus  generally,  we  should  but  deceive  each 
other.  What  is  the  nature  of  this  call?  By  whom  is  it  to 
be  sounded?  And  what  are  to  be  the  results?  for  I  think 
you  have  already  seen  enough  of  the  evils  of  civil  war  to 
be  wary  of  again  awakening  its  terrors  in  a  peaceful  and 
happy  country.' 

'They  that  are  drenched  with  poisonous  narcotics,' 
said  the  major, '  must  be  awakened  by  their  physicians, 
though  it  were  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet.  Better 
that  men  should  die  bravely,  with  their  arms  in  their 
hands,  like  free-born  Englishmen,  than  that  they  should 
slide  into  the  bloodless  but  dishonoured  grave  which 
slavery  opens  for  its  vassals.  But  it  is  not  of  war  that  I 
was  about  to  speak,'  he  added,  assuming  a  milder  tone. 
'The  evils  of  which  England  now  complains  are  such  as 
can  be  remedied  by  the  wholesome  administration  of 
her  own  laws,  even  in  the  state  in  which  they  are  still 
suffered  to  exist.  Have  these  laws  not  a  right  to  the  sup- 
port of  every  individual  who  hves  under  them?  Have 
they  not  a  right  to  yours? ' 

As  he  seemed  to  pause  for  an  answer,  Peveril  replied, 
279 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

*I  have  to  learn,  Major  Bridgenorth,  how  the  laws  of 
England  have  become  so  far  weakened  as  to  require  such 
support  as  mine.  When  that  is  made  plain  to  me,  no 
man  will  more  willingly  discharge  the  duty  of  a  faithful 
liegeman  to  the  law  as  well  as  the  king.  But  the  laws 
of  England  are  under  the  guardianship  of  upright  and 
learned  judges  and  of  a  gracious  monarch.' 

'And  of  a  House  of  Commons,'  interrupted  Bridge- 
north,  'no  longer  doting  upon  restored  monarchy,  but 
awakened,  as  with  a  peal  of  thunder,  to  the  perilous  state 
of  our  religion  and  of  our  freedom.  I  appeal  to  your  own 
conscience,  Julian  Peveril,  whether  this  awakening  hath 
not  been  in  time,  since  you  yourself  know,  and  none 
better  than  you,  the  secret  but  rapid  strides  which  Rome 
has  made  to  erect  her  Dagon  of  idolatry  within  our 
Protestant  land.' 

Here  Julian,  seeing,  or  thinking  he  saw,  the  drift  of 
Bridgenorth's  suspicions,  hastened  to  exculpate  himself 
from  the  thought  of  favouring  the  Roman  Catholic  re- 
ligion. 'It  is  true,'  he  said,  'I  have  been  educated  in  a 
family  where  that  faith  is  professed  by  one  honoured  in- 
dividual, and  that  I  have  since  travelled  in  Popish  coun- 
tries; but  even  for  these  very  reasons  I  have  seen  Popery 
too  closely  to  be  friendly  to  its  tenets.  The  bigotry  of 
the  laymen,  the  persevering  arts  of  the  priesthood,  the 
perpetual  intrigue  for  the  extension  of  the  forms  without 
the  spirit  of  religion,  the  usurpation  of  that  church  over 
the  consciences  of  men,  and  her  impious  pretensions  to 
infallibility,  are  as  inconsistent  to  my  mind  as  they  can 
seem  to  yours  with  common  sense,  rational  liberty,  free- 
dom of  conscience,  and  pure  rehgion.' 

'  Spoken  like  the  son  of  your  excellent  mother ! '  said 

280 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Bridgenorth,  grasping  his  hand,  'for  whose  sake  I  have 
consented  to  endure  so  much  from  your  house  unre- 
quited, even  when  the  means  of  requital  were  in  my  own 
hand.' 

'  It  was  indeed  from  the  instructions  of  that  excellent 
parent,'  said  Peveril,  *  that  I  was  enabled,  in  my  early 
youth,  to  resist  and  repel  the  insidious  attacks  made 
upon  my  religious  faith  by  the  Catholic  priests  into 
whose  company  I  was  necessarily  thrown.  Like  her,  I 
trust  to  live  and  die  in  the  faith  of  the  Reformed  Church 
of  England.' 

'The  Church  of  England ! '  said  Bridgenorth,  dropping 
his  young  friend's  hand,  but  presently  resuming  it. 
'Alas!  that  church,  as  now  constituted,  usurps  scarcely 
less  than  Rome  herself  upon  men's  consciences  and  lib- 
erties; yet,  out  of  the  weakness  of  this  half-reformed 
church,  may  God  be  pleased  to  work  out  deliverance  to 
England  and  praise  to  Himself.  I  must  not  forget  that 
one  whose  services  have  been  in  the  cause  incalculable 
wears  the  garb  of  an  English  priest,  and  hath  had  Epis- 
copal ordination.  It  is  not  for  us  to  challenge  the  in- 
strument, so  that  our  escape  is  achieved  from  the  net 
of  the  fowler.  Enough,  that  I  find  thee  not  as  yet  en- 
lightened with  the  purer  doctrine,  but  prepared  to  profit 
by  it  when  the  spark  shall  reach  thee.  Enough  in  es- 
pecial, that  I  find  thee  willing  to  uplift  thy  testimony, 
to  cry  aloud  and  spare  not,  against  the  errors  and  arts 
of  the  Church  of  Rome.  But,  remember,  what  thou  hast 
now  said,  thou  wilt  soon  be  called  upon  to  justify,  in  a 
manner  the  most  solemn  —  the  most  awful.' 

'What  I  have  said,'  replied  Julian  Peveril,  'being  the 
unbiassed  sentiments  of  my  heart,  shall,  upon  no  proper 

281 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

occasion,  want  the  support  of  my  open  avowal;  and  I 
think  it  strange  you  should  doubt  me  so  far.' 

*I  doubt  thee  not,  my  young  friend,'  said  Bridge- 
north;  'and  I  trust  to  see  thy  name  rank  high  amongst 
those  by  whom  the  prey  shall  be  rent  from  the  mighty. 
At  present,  thy  prejudices  occupy  thy  mind  like  the 
strong  keeper  of  the  house  mentioned  in  Scripture.  But 
there  shall  come  a  stronger  than  he,  and  make  forcible 
entry,  displaying  on  the  battlements  that  sign  of  faith 
in  which  alone  there  is  found  salvation.  Watch,  hope, 
and  pray,  that  the  hour  may  come ! ' 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  which  was  first 
broken  by  Peveril.  'You  have  spoken  to  me  in  riddles, 
Major  Bridgenorth;  and  I  have  asked  you  for  no  explan- 
ation. Listen  to  a  caution  on  my  part,  given  with  the 
most  sincere  good-will.  Take  a  hint  from  me,  and  be- 
lieve it,  though  it  is  darkly  expressed.  You  are  here  — 
at  least  are  believed  to  be  here  —  on  an  errand 
dangerous  to  the  lord  of  the  island.  That  danger  will  be 
retorted  on  yourself,  if  you  make  Man  long  your  place 
of  residence.   Be  warned,  and  depart  in  time.' 

'And  leave  my  daughter  to  the  guardianship  of  Julian 
Peveril?  Runs  not  your  counsel  so,  young  man?'  an- 
swered Bridgenorth.  'Trust  my  safety,  JuHan,  to  my 
own  prudence.  I  have  been  accustomed  to  guide  my- 
self through  worse  dangers  than  now  environ  me. 
But  I  thank  you  for  your  caution,  which  I  am  wilHng 
to  believe  was  at  least  partly  disinterested.' 

'We  do  not,  then,  part  in  anger?'  said  Peveril. 

'Not  in  anger,  my  son,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'but  in  love 
and  strong  affection.  For  my  daughter,  thou  must  for- 
bear every  thought  of  seeing  her,  save  through  me.   I 

282 


) 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

accept  not  thy  suit,  neither  do  I  reject  it;  only  this  I 
intimate  to  you,  that  he  who  would  be  my  son  must  first 
show  himself  the  true  and  loving  child  of  his  oppressed 
and  deluded  country.  Farewell!  Do  not  answer  me 
now;  thou  art  yet  in  the  gall  of  bitterness,  and  it  may 
be  that  strife,  which  I  desire  not,  should  fall  between 
us.  Thou  shalt  hear  of  me  sooner  than  thou  thinkest 
for.' 

He  shook  Peveril  heartily  by  the  hand,  and  again  bid 
him  farewell,  leaving  him  under  the  confused  and  min- 
gled impression  of  pleasure,  doubt,  and  wonder.  Not  a 
little  surprised  to  find  himself  so  far  in  the  good  graces 
of  Alice's  father  that  his  suit  was  even  favoured  with 
a  sort  of  negative  encouragement,  he  could  not  help 
suspecting,  as  well  from  the  language  of  the  daughter 
as  of  the  father,  that  Bridgenorth  was  desirous,  as  the 
price  of  his  favour,  that  he  should  adopt  some  line  of 
conduct  inconsistent  with  the  principles  in  which  he  had 
been  educated. 

*You  need  not  fear,  Alice,'  he  said  in  his  heart;  'not 
even  your  hand  would  I  purchase  by  aught  which  re- 
sembled unworthy  or  truckling  compliance  with  tenets 
which  my  heart  disowns ;  and  well  I  know,  were  I  mean 
enough  to  do  so,  even  the  authority  of  thy  father  were 
insufficient  to  compel  thee  to  the  ratification  of  so  mean 
a  bargain.  But  let  me  hope  better  things.  Bridgenorth, 
though  strong-minded  and  sagacious,  is  haunted  by  the 
fears  of  Popery,  which  are  the  bugbears  of  his  sect. 
My  residence  in  the  family  of  the  Countess  of  Derby 
is  more  than  enough  to  inspire  him  with  suspicions  of  my 
faith,  from  which,  thank  Heaven,  I  can  vindicate  myself 
with  truth  and  a  good  conscience.' 

283 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

So  thinking,  he  again  adjusted  the  girths  of  his  pal- 
frey, replaced  the  bit  which  he  had  slipped  out  of  its 
mouth  that  it  might  feed  at  liberty,  and  mounting,  pur- 
sued his  way  back  to  the  Castle  of  Holm-Peel,  where  he 
could  not  help  fearing  that  something  extraordinary 
might  have  happened  in  his  absence. 

But  the  old  pile  soon  rose  before  him,  serene  and 
sternly  still,  amid  the  sleeping  ocean.  The  banner, 
which  indicated  that  the  Lord  of  Man  held  residence 
within  its  ruinous  precincts,  hung  motionless  by  the 
ensign-staff.  The  sentinels  walked  to  and  fro  on  their 
posts,  and  hummed  or  whistled  their  Manx  airs.  Leav- 
ing his  faithful  companion,  Fairy,  in  the  village  as 
before,  Julian  entered  the  castle,  and  found  all  within 
in  the  same  state  of  quietness  and  good  order  which 
external  appearances  had  announced. 


y 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


Now  rede  me,  rede  me,  brother  dear, 

Throughout  Merry  England, 
Where  will  I  find  a  messenger. 

Betwixt  us  two  to  send. 

Ballad  of  King  Estmere. 


Julian's  first  rencounter,  after  re-entering  the  castle, 
was  with  its  young  lord,  who  received  him  with  his 
usual  kindness  and  lightness  of  humour. 

*  Thrice  welcome,  Sir  Knight  of  Dames/  said  the  earl; 
'here  you  rove  gallantly,  and  at  free  will,  through 
our  dominions,  fulfilling  of  appointments  and  achieving 
amorous  adventures;  while  we  are  condemned  to  sit  in 
our  royal  halls,  as  dull  and  as  immovable  as  if  our 
Majesty  was  carved  on  the  stern  of  some  Manx  smug- 
ghng  dogger,  and  christened  the  "King  Arthur"  of 
Ramsey.' 

'Nay,  in  that  case  you  would  take  the  sea,'  said 
Julian,  'and  so  enjoy  travel  and  adventure  enough.' 

'Oh,  but  suppose  me  wind-bound,  or  detained  in 
harbour  by  a  revenue  pink,  or  ashore,  if  you  like  it,  and 
lying  high  and  dry  upon  the  sand.  Imagine  the  royal 
image  in  the  dullest  of  all  predicaments,  and  you  have 
not  equalled  mine.' 

'I  am  happy  to  hear,  at  least,  that  you  have  had  no 
disagreeable  employment,'  said  Julian;  'the  morning's 
alarm  has  blown  over,  I  suppose?' 

'In  faith  it  has,  Julian;  and  our  close  inquiries  cannot 
find  any  cause  for  the  apprehended  insurrection.  That 

28s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Bridgenorth  is  in  the  island  seems  certain;  but  private 
affairs  of  consequence  are  alleged  as  the  cause  of  his 
visit;  and  I  am  not  desirous  to  have  him  arrested  unless 
I  could  prove  some  malpractices  against  him  and  his 
companions.  In  fact,  it  would  seem  we  had  taken  the 
alarm  too  soon.  My  mother  speaks  of  consulting  you 
on  the  subject,  Julian;  and  I  will  not  anticipate  her  sol- 
emn communication.  It  will  be  partly  apologetical,  I 
suppose;  for  we  begin  to  think  our  retreat  rather  un- 
royal, and  that,  like  the  wicked,  we  have  fled  when  no  man 
pursued.  This  idea  afflicts  my  mother,  who,  as  a  queen- 
dowager,  a  queen-regent,  a  heroine,  and  a  woman  in 
general,  would  be  extremely  mortified  to  think  that  her 
precipitate  retreat  hither  had  exposed  her  to  the  ridicule 
of  the  islanders;  and  she  is  disconcerted  and  out  of  hu- 
mour accordingly.  In  the  meanwhile,  my  sole  amuse- 
ment has  been  the  grimaces  and  fantastic  gestures  of 
that  ape  Fenella,  who  is  more  out  of  humour,  and  more 
absurd  in  consequence,  than  you  ever  saw  her.  Morris 
says  it  is  because  you  pushed  her  downstairs,  Julian  — ■ 
how  is  that?' 

'Nay,  Morris  has  misreported  me,'  answered  Julian; 
'I  did  but  lift  her  w/>stairs  to  be  rid  of  her  importunity; 
for  she  chose,  in  her  way,  to  contest  my  going  abroad  in 
such  an  obstinate  manner  that  I  had  no  other  mode  of 
getting  rid  of  her.' 

'She  must  have  supposed  your  departure,  at  a  mo- 
ment so  critical,  was  dangerous  to  the  state  of  our  garri- 
son,' answered  the  earl;  'it  shows  how  dearly  she  esteems 
my  mother's  safety,  how  highly  she  rates  your  prowess. 
But,  thank  Heaven,  there  sounds  the  dinner-bell.  I 
would  the  philosophers,  who  find  a  sin  and  waste  of 

286 


f 


PEVERn.  OF  THE  PEAK 

time  in  good  cheer,  could  devise  us  any  pastime  half  so 
agreeable.' 

The  meal  which  the  young  earl  had  thus  longed  for, 
as  a  means  of  consuming  a  portion  of  the  time  which 
hung  heavy  on  his  hands,  was  soon  over;  as  soon,  at 
least,  as  the  habitual  and  stately  formality  of  the  count- 
ess's household  permitted.  She  herself,  accompanied  by 
her  gentlewoman  and  attendants,  retired  early  after  the 
tables  were  drawn;  and  the  young  gentlemen  were  left 
to  their  own  company.  Wine  had,  for  the  moment,  no 
charms  for  either ;  for  the  earl  was  out  of  spirits  from 
ennui,  and  impatience  of  his  monotonous  and  solitary 
course  of  life;  and  the  events  of  the  day  had  given 
Peveril  too  much  matter  for  reflection  to  permit  his 
starting  amusing  or  interesting  topics  of  conversation. 
After  having  passed  the  flask  in  silence  betwixt  them 
once  or  twice,  they  withdrew  each  into  a  separate  em- 
brasure of  the  windows  of  the  dining-apartment,  which, 
such  was  the  extreme  thickness  of  the  wall,  were  deep 
enough  to  afford  a  solitary  recess,  separated,  as  it  were, 
from  the  chamber  itself.  In  one  of  these  sat  the  Earl 
of  Derby,  busied  in  looking  over  some  of  the  new  publi- 
cations which  had  been  forwarded  from  London;  and 
at  intervals  confessing  how  little  power  or  interest  these 
had  for  him,  by  yawning  fearfully  as  he  looked  out  on 
the  solitary  expanse  of  waters,  which,  save  for  the  flight 
of  a  flock  of  sea-gulls  or  of  a  solitary  cormorant,  offered 
so  little  of  variety  to  engage  his  attention. 

Peveril,  on  his  part,  held  a  pamphlet  also  in  his  hand, 
without  giving,  or  affecting  to  give,  it  even  his  occa- 
sional attention.  His  whole  soul  turned  upon  the  inter- 
view which  he  had  had  that  day  with  Alice  Bridgenorth 

287 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  with  her  father;  while  he  in  vain  endeavoured  to 
form  any  hypothesis  which  could  explain  to  him  why 
the  daughter,  to  whom  he  had  no  reason  to  think  him- 
self indifferent,  should  have  been  so  suddenly  desirous 
of  their  eternal  separation,  while  her  father,  whose 
opposition  he  so  much  dreaded,  seemed  to  be  at  least 
tolerant  of  his  addresses.  He  could  only  suppose,  in 
explanation,  that  Major  Bridgenorth  had  some  plan  in 
prospect  which  it  was.  in  his  own  power  to  further  or  to 
impede;  while,  from  the  demeanour,  and  indeed  the 
language,  of  Alice,  he  had  but  too  much  reason  to  appre- 
hend that  her  father's  favour  could  only  be  conciliated 
by  something,  on  his  own  part,  approaching  to  derelic- 
tion of  principle.  But  by  no  conjecture  which  he  could 
form  could  he  make  the  least  guess  concerning  the  na- 
ture of  that  compliance  of  which  Bridgenorth  seemed 
desirous.  He  could  not  imagine,  notwithstanding  Alice 
had  spoken  of  treachery,  that  her  father  would  dare  to 
propose  to  him  uniting  in  any  plan  by  which  the  safety 
of  the  countess,  or  the  security  of  her  little  kingdom  of 
Man,  was  to  be  endangered.  This  carried  such  indelible 
disgrace  in  the  front,  that  he  could  not  suppose  the 
scheme  proposed  to  him  by  any  who  was  not  prepared 
to  defend  with  his  sword,  upon  the  spot,  so  flagrant  an 
insult  offered  to  his  honour.  And  such  a  proceeding 
was  totally  inconsistent  with  the  conduct  of  Major 
Bridgenorth  in  every  other  respect,  besides  his  being  too 
calm  and  cold-blooded  to  permit  of  his  putting  a  mortal 
affront  upon  the  son  of  his  old  neighbour,  to  whose 
mother  he  confessed  so  much  of  obhgation. 

While  Peveril  in  vain  endeavoured  to  extract  some- 
thing hke  a  probable  theory  out  of  the  hints  thrown  out 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

by  the  father  and  by  the  daughter  —  not  without  the 
additional  and  lover-Hke  labour  of  endeavouring  to 
reconcile  his  passion  to  his  honour  and  conscience  — 
he  felt  something  gently  pull  him  by  the  cloak.  He  un- 
clasped his  arms,  which,  in  meditation,  had  been  folded 
on  his  bosom ;  and  withdrawing  his  eyes  from  the  vacant 
prospect  of  sea-coast  and  sea  which  they  perused,  with- 
out much  consciousness  upon  what  they  rested,  he 
beheld  beside  him  the  little  dumb  maiden,  the  elfin 
Fenella.  She  was  seated  on  a  low  cushion  or  stool,  with 
which  she  had  nestled  close  to  Peveril's  side,  and  had 
remained  there  for  a  short  space  of  time,  expecting,  no 
doubt,  he  would  become  conscious  of  her  presence;  until, 
tired  of  remaining  unnoticed,  she  at  length  solicited  his 
attention  in  the  manner  which  we  have  described. 
Startled  out  of  his  reverie  by  this  intimation  of  her 
presence,  he  looked  down,  and  could  not,  without  inter- 
est, behold  this  singular  and  helpless  being. 

Her  hair  was  unloosened,  and  streamed  over  her 
shoulders  in  such  length,  that  much  of  it  lay  upon  the 
ground,  and  in  such  quantity,  that  it  formed  a  dark 
veil,  or  shadow,  not  only  around  her  face,  but  over  her 
whole  slender  and  minute  form.  From  the  profusion  of 
her  tresses  looked  forth  her  small  and  dark,  but  well- 
formed,  features,  together  with  the  large  and  brilliant 
black  eyes:  and  her  whole  countenance  was  composed 
into  the  imploring  look  of  one  who  is  doubtful  of  the 
reception  she  is  about  to  meet  with  from  a  valued  friend, 
while  she  confesses  a  fault,  pleads  an  apology,  or  solicits 
a  reconciliation.  In  short,  the  whole  face  was  so  much 
alive  with  expression,  that  Julian,  though  her  aspect 
was  so  familiar  to  him,  could  hardly  persuade  himself 
87  289 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

but  that  her  countenance  was  entirely  new.  The  wild, 
fantastic,  elvish  vivacity  of  the  features  seemed  totally 
vanished,  and  had  given  place  to  a  sorrowful,  tender, 
and  pathetic  cast  of  countenance,  aided  by  the  expression 
of  the  large  dark  eyes,  which,  as  they  were  turned  up 
towards  Julian,  glistened  with  moisture,  that,  neverthe- 
less, did  not  overflow  the  eyelids. 

Conceiving  that  her  unwonted  manner  arose  from  a 
recollection  of  the  dispute  which  had  taken  place  be- 
twixt them  in  the  morning,  Peveril  was  anxious  to  restore 
the  little  maiden's  gaiety,  by  making  her  sensible  that 
there  dwelt  on  his  mind  no  unpleasing  recollection  of 
their  quarrel.  He  smiled  kindly,  and  shook  her  hand  in 
one  of  his;  while,  with  the  familiarity  of  one  who  had 
known  her  from  childhood,  he  stroked  down  her  long 
dark  tresses  with  the  other.  She  stooped  her  head,  as 
if  ashamed  and,  at  the  same  time,  gratified  with  his 
caresses;  and  he  was  thus  induced  to  continue  them, 
until,  under  the  veil  of  her  rich  and  abundant  locks,  he 
suddenly  felt  his  other  hand,  which  she  still  held  fast 
in  hers,  slightly  touched  with  her  lips,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  moistened  with  a  tear. 

At  once,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  Hfe,  the  danger  of 
being  misinterpreted  in  his  familiarity  with  a  creature 
to  whom  the  usual  modes  of  explanation  were  a  blank 
occurred  to  Julian's  mind;  and,  hastily  withdrawing  his 
hand  and  changing  his  posture,  he  asked  of  her,  by  a 
sign  which  custom  had  rendered  familiar,  whether  she 
brought  any  message  to  him  from  the  countess.  In  an 
instant  Fenella's  whole  deportment  was  changed.  She 
started  up  and  arranged  herself  in  her  seat  with  the 
rapidity  of  lightning;  and  at  the  same  moment,  with  one 

290 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

turn  of  her  hand,  braided  her  length  of  locks  into  a 
natural  head-dress  of  the  most  beautiful  kind.  There 
was,  indeed,  when  she  looked  up,  a  blush  still  visible 
on  her  dark  features ;  but  their  melancholy  and  languid 
expression  had  given  place  to  that  of  wild  and  restless 
vivacity,  which  was  most  common  to  them.  Her  eyes 
gleamed  with  more  than  their  wonted  fire,  and  her 
glances  were  more  piercingly  wild  and  unsettled  than 
usual.  To  Juhan's  inquiry,  she  answered,  by  laying  her 
hand  on  her  heart  —  a  motion  by  which  she  always 
indicated  the  countess  —  and  rising  and  taking  the 
direction  of  her  apartment,  she  made  a  sign  to  Julian 
to  follow  her. 

The  distance  was  not  great  betwixt  the  dining-apart- 
ment  and  that  to  which  Peveril  now  followed  his  mute 
guide;  yet,  in  going  thither,  he  had  time  enough  to 
suffer  cruelly  from  the  sudden  suspicion  that  this  un- 
happy girl  had  misinterpreted  the  uniform  kindness  with 
which  he  had  treated  her,  and  hence  come  to  regard  him 
with  feelings  more  tender  than  those  which  belong  to 
friendship.  The  misery  which  such  a  passion  was  likely 
to  occasion  to  a  creature  in  her  helpless  situation,  and 
actuated  by  such  lively  feelings,  was  great  enough  to 
make  him  refuse  credit  to  the  suspicion  which  pressed 
itself  upon  his  mind;  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  formed 
the  internal  resolution  so  to  conduct  himself  towards 
Fenella  as  to  check  such  misplaced  sentiments,  if  indeed 
she  unhappily  entertained  them  towards  him. 

When  they  reached  the  countess's  apartment,  they 
found  her  with  writing-implements  and  many  sealed 
letters  before  her.  She  received  Julian  with  her  usual 
kindness;  and  having  caused  him  to  be  seated,  beckoned 

291 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  the  mute  to  resume  her  needle.  In  an  instant  Fenella 
was  seated  at  an  embroidering-frame,  where,  but  for 
the  movement  of  her  dexterous  fingers,  she  might  have 
seemed  a  statue,  so  little  did  she  move  from  her  work 
either  head  or  eye.  As  her  infirmity  rendered  her  pres- 
ence no  bar  to  the  most  confidential  conversation,  the 
countess  proceeded  to  address  Peveril  as  if  they  had 
been  literally  alone  together. 

*  JuHan,'  she  said,  'I  am  not  now  about  to  complain 
to  you  of  the  sentiments  and  conduct  of  Derby.  He  is 
your  friend  —  he  is  my  son.  He  has  kindness  of  heart 
and  vivacity  of  talent;  and  yet  — ' 

'Dearest  lady,'  said  Peveril,  'why  will  you  distress 
yourself  with  fixing  your  eye  on  deficiencies  which  arise 
rather  from  a  change  of  times  and  manners  than  any 
degeneracy  of  my  noble  friend?  Let  him  be  once  en- 
gaged in  his  duty,  whether  in  peace  or  war,  and  let  me 
pay  the  penalty  if  he  acquits  not  himself  becoming  his 
high  station.' 

*Ay,'  replied  the  countess;  'but  when  will  the  call  of 
duty  prove  superior  to  that  of  the  most  idle  or  trivial 
indulgence  which  can  serve  to  drive  over  the  lazy  hour? 
His  father  was  of  another  mould ;  and  how  often  was  it 
my  lot  to  entreat  that  he  would  spare,  from  the  rigid 
discharge  of  those  duties  which  his  high  station  imposed, 
the  relaxation  absolutely  necessary  to  recruit  his  health 
and  his  spirits!' 

'Still,  my  dearest  lady,'  said  Peveril,  'you  must  allow 
that  the  duties  to  which  the  times  summoned  your 
late  honoured  lord  were  of  a  more  stirring,  as  well  as 
a  more  peremptory,  cast  than  those  which  await  your 
son.' 

292 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'I  know  not  that/  said  the  countess.  'The  wheel 
appears  to  be  again  revolving;  and  the  present  period 
is  not  unlikely  to  bring  back  such  scenes  as  my  younger 
years  witnessed.  Well,  be  it  so;  they  will  not  find 
Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille  broken  in  spirit,  though 
depressed  by  years.  It  was  even  on  this  subject  I  would 
speak  with  you,  my  young  friend.  Since  our  first  early 
acquaintance,  when  I  saw  your  gallant  behaviour  as  I 
issued  forth  to  your  childish  eye,  hke  an  apparition, 
from  my  place  of  concealment  in  your  father's  castle,  it 
has  pleased  me  to  think  you  a  true  son  of  Stanley  and 
Peveril.  I  trust  your  nurture  in  this  family  has  been 
ever  suited  to  the  esteem  in  which  I  hold  you.  Nay,  I 
desire  no  thanks.  I  have  to  require  of  you,  in  return,  a 
piece  of  service,  not  perhaps  entirely  safe  to  yourself, 
but  which,  as  times  are  circumstanced,  no  person  is  so 
well  able  to  render  to  my  house.' 

'You  have  been  ever  my  good  and  noble  lady,'  an- 
swered Peveril,  *as  well  as  my  kind,  and  I  may  say 
maternal,  protectress.  You  have  a  right  to  command 
the  blood  of  Stanley  in  the  veins  of  every  one;  you  have 
a  thousand  rights  to  command  it  in  mine.'^ 

'My  advices  from  England,'  said  the  countess,  're- 
semble more  the  dreams  of  a  sick  man  than  the  regular 
information  which  I  might  have  expected  from  such 
correspondents  as  mine ;  their  expressions  are  like  those 
of  men  who  walk  in  their  sleep,  and  speak  by  snatches 
of  what  passes  in  their  dreams.  It  is  said  a  plot,  real 
or  fictitious,  has  been  detected  amongst  the  Catholics, 
which  has  spread  far  wider  and  more  uncontrollable 

^  The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten  that  the  Earl  of  Derby  was  head 
of  the  great  house  of  Stanley. 

293 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

terror  than  that  of  the  fifth  of  November.  Its  outlines 
seem  utterly  incredible,  and  are  only  supported  by  the 
evidence  of  wretches  the  meanest  and  most  worthless 
in  the  creation ;  yet  it  is  received  by  the  credulous  people 
of  England  with  the  most  imdoubting  belief.' 

'This  is  a  singular  delusion  to  rise  without  some  real 
ground/  answered  Julian. 

'I  am  no  bigot,  cousin,  though  a  Catholic,'  replied  the 
countess.  'I  have  long  feared  that  the  well-meant  zeal 
of  our  priests  for  increasing  converts  would  draw  on 
them  the  suspicion  of  the  English  nation.  These  efforts 
have  been  renewed  with  double  energy  since  the  Duke 
of  York  conformed  to  the  CathoHc  faith;  and  the  same 
event  has  doubled  the  hate  and  jealousy  of  the  Protes- 
tants. So  far,  I  fear,  there  may  be  just  cause  for  sus- 
picion that  the  duke  is  a  better  Catholic  than  an  Eng- 
lishman, and  that  bigotry  has  involved  him,  as  avarice, 
or  the  needy  greed  of  a  prodigal,  has  engaged  his  bro- 
ther, in  relations  with  France,  whereof  England  may 
have  too  much  reason  to  complain.  But  the  gross,  thick, 
and  palpable  fabrications  of  conspiracy  and  murder, 
blood  and  fire  —  the  imaginary  armies  —  the  intended 
massacres  —  form  a  collection  of  falsehoods  that  one 
would  have  thought  indigestible  even  by  the  coarse 
appetite  of  the  vulgar  for  the  marvellous  and  horrible; 
but  which  are,  nevertheless,  received  as  truth  by  both 
Houses  of  Parliament,  and  questioned  by  no  one  who  is 
desirous  to  escape  the  odious  appellation  of  friend  to 
the  bloody  Papists,  and  favourer  of  their  infernal 
schemes  of  cruelty.' 

'  But  what  say  those  who  are  most  likely  to  be  affected 
by  these  wild  reports?'  said  Julian.    'What  say  the 

294 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

English  Catholics  themselves  —  a  numerous  and 
wealthy  body,  comprising  so  many  noble  names? ' 

'Their  hearts  are  dead  within  them,'  said  the  countess. 
'They  are  like  sheep  penned  up  in  the  shambles,  that 
the  butcher  may  take  his  choice  among  them.  In  the 
obscure  and  brief  communications  which  I  have  had  by 
a  secure  hand,  they  do  but  anticipate  their  own  utter 
ruin  and  ours,  so  general  is  the  depression,  so  universal 
the  despair.' 

'But  the  King,'  said  Peveril  —  'the  King  and  the 
Protestant  Royalists  —  what  say  they  to  this  growing 
tempest?' 

'Charles,'  rephed  the  countess,  'with  his  usual  selfish 
prudence,  truckles  to  the  storm;  and  will  let  cord  and 
axe  do  their  work  on  the  most  innocent  men  in  his  do- 
minions rather  than  lose  an  hour  of  pleasure  in  attempt- 
ing their  rescue.  And  for  the  Royalists,  either  they  have 
caught  the  general  deHrium  which  has  seized  on  Protes- 
tants in  general,  or  they  stand  aloof  and  neutral,  afraid 
to  show  any  interest  in  the  unhappy  Catholics,  lest  they 
be  judged  altogether  such  as  themselves,  and  abettors 
of  the  fearful  conspiracy  in  which  they  are  alleged  to 
be  engaged.  In  fact,  I  cannot  blame  them.  It  is  hard  to 
expect  that  mere  compassion  for  a  persecuted  sect,  or, 
what  is  yet  more  rare,  an  abstract  love  of  justice,  should 
be  powerful  enough  to  engage  men  to  expose  themselves 
to  the  awakened  fury  of  a  whole  people;  for,  in  the 
present  state  of  general  agitation,  whoever  disbelieves 
the  least  tittle  of  the  enormous  improbabihties  which 
have  been  accumulated  by  these  wretched  informers  is 
instantly  hunted  down,  as  one  who  would  smother  the 
discovery  of  the  plot.   It  is  indeed  an  awful  tempest; 

295 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

and,  remote  as  we  lie  from  its  sphere,  we  must  expect 
soon  to  feel  its  effects.' 

'Lord  Derby  already  told  me  something  of  this,'  said 
JuHan;  'and  that  there  were  agents  in  this  island  whose 
object  was  to  excite  insurrection.' 

'Yes,'  answered  the  countess,  and  her  eye  flashed  fire 
as  she  spoke;  'and  had  my  advice  been  listened  to,  they 
had  been  apprehended  in  the  very  fact,  and  so  dealt 
with  as  to  be  a  warning  to  all  others  how  they  sought 
this  independent  principality  on  such  an  errand.  But 
my  son,  who  is  generally  so  culpably  negligent  of  his  own 
affairs,  was  pleased  to  assume  the  management  of  them 
upon  this  crisis.' 

'I  am  happy  to  learn,  madam,'  answered  Peveril, 
*  that  the  measures  of  precaution  which  my  kinsman  has 
adopted  have  had  the  complete  effect  of  disconcerting 
the  conspiracy.' 

'For  the  present,  Julian;  but  they  should  have  been 
such  as  would  have  made  the  boldest  tremble  to  think  of 
such  infringement  of  our  rights  in  future.  But  Derby's 
present  plan  is  fraught  with  greater  danger;  and  yet 
there  is  something  in  it  of  gallantry,  which  has  my 
sympathy.' 

'What  is  it,  madam?'  inquired  Julian,  anxiously; 
'and  in  what  can  I  aid  it,  or  avert  its  dangers?' 

'He  purposes,'  said  the  countess,  'instantly  to  set 
forth  for  London.  He  is,  he  says,  not  merely  the  feudal 
chief  of  a  small  island,  but  one  of  the  noble  peers  of 
England,  who  must  not  remain  in  the  security  of  an 
obscure  and  distant  castle  when  his  name,  or  that  of  his 
mother,  is  slandered  before  his  prince  and  people.  He 
will  take  his  place,  he  says,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and 

296 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

publicly  demand  justice  for  the  insult  thrown  on  his 
house  by  perjured  and  interested  witnesses.' 

'It  is  a  generous  resolution,  and  worthy  of  my  friend/ 
said  JuHan  Peveril.  'I  will  go  with  him  and  share  his 
fate,  be  it  what  it  may.' 

'Alas,  foolish  boy!'  answered  the  countess,  'as  well 
may  you  ask  a  hungry  lion  to  feel  compassion  as  a  preju- 
diced and  furious  people  to  do  justice.  They  are  like 
the  madman  at  the  height  of  frenzy,  who  murders  with- 
out compunction  his  best  and  dearest  friend;  and  only 
wonders  and  wails  over  his  own  cruelty  when  he  is 
recovered  from  his  delirium.' 

'Pardon  me,  dearest  lady,'  said  Julian,  'this  cannot 
be.  The  noble  and  generous  people  of  England  cannot 
be  thus  strangely  misled.  Whatever  prepossessions  may 
be  current  among  the  more  vulgar,  the  Houses  of  Legis- 
lature cannot  be  deeply  infected  by  them;  they  will 
remember  their  own  dignity.' 

'Alas!  cousin,'  answered  the  countess,  'when  did 
EngUshmen,  even  of  the  highest  degree,  remember  any- 
thing when  hurried  away  by  the  violence  of  party  feel- 
ing? Even  those  who  have  too  much  sense  to  beUeve 
in  the  incredible  fictions  which  gull  the  multitude,  will 
beware  how  they  expose  them,  if  their  own  political 
party  can  gain  a  momentary  advantage  by  their  being 
accredited.  It  is  amongst  such,  too,  that  your  kinsman 
has  found  friends  and  associates.  Neglecting  the  old 
friends  of  his  house,  as  too  grave  and  formal  compan- 
ions for  the  humour  of  the  times,  his  intercourse  has 
been  with  the  versatile  Shaftesbury,  the  mercurial 
Buckingham  —  men  who  would  not  hesitate  to  sacrifice 
to  the  popular  Moloch  of  the  day  whatsoever  or  whom- 

297 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

soever  whose  ruin  could  propitiate  the  deity.  Forgive  a 
mother's  tears,  kinsman;  but  I  see  the  scaffold  at  Bolton 
again  erected.  If  Derby  goes  to  London  while  these 
bloodhounds  are  in  full  cry,  obnoxious  as  he  is,  and  I 
have  made  him  by  my  religious  faith  and  my  conduct 
in  this  island,  he  dies  his  father's  death.  And  yet  upon 
what  other  course  to  resolve  — ! ' 

'Let  me  go  to  London,  madam,'  said  Peveril,  much 
moved  by  the  distress  of  his  patroness;  'your  ladyship 
was  wont  to  rely  something  on  my  judgment.  I  will  act 
for  the  best  —  will  communicate  with  those  whom  you 
point  out  to  me,  and  only  with  them;  and  I  trust  soon 
to  send  you  information  that  this  delusion,  however 
strong  it  may  now  be,  is  in  the  course  of  passing  away; 
at  the  worst,  I  can  apprize  you  of  the  danger,  should  it 
menace  the  earl  or  yourself;  and  may  be  able  also  to 
point  out  the  means  by  which  it  may  be  eluded,' 

The  countess  Ustened  with  a  countenance  in  which 
the  anxiety  of  maternal  affection,  which  prompted  her 
to  embrace  Peveril's  generous  offer,  struggled  with  her 
native  disinterested  and  generous  disposition.  'Think 
what  you  ask  of  me,  Julian,'  she  replied,  with  a  sigh. 
'Would  you  have  me  expose  the  life  of  my  friend's  son 
to  those  perils  to  which  I  refuse  my  own?  No,  never!* 

'Nay,  but,  madam,'  replied  Julian,  'I  do  not  run  the 
same  risk:  my  person  is  not  known  in  London;  my  situ- 
ation, though  not  obscure  in  my  own  country,  is  too 
little  known  to  be  noticed  in  that  huge  assemblage  of  all 
that  is  noble  and  wealthy.  No  whisper,  I  presume,  how- 
ever indirect,  has  connected  my  name  with  the  alleged 
conspiracy.  I  am  a  Protestant,  above  all;  and  can  be 
accused  of  no  intercourse,  direct  or  indirect,  with  the 

298 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Church  of  Rome.  My  connexions  also  lie  amongst  those 
who,  if  they  do  not,  or  cannot,  befriend  me,  cannot  at 
least  be  dangerous  to  me.  In  a  word,  I  run  no  danger 
where  the  earl  might  incur  great  peril.' 

'Alas!'  said  the  Countess  of  Derby,  'all  this  generous 
reasoning  may  be  true;  but  it  could  only  be  listened  to 
by  a  widowed  mother.  Selfish  as  I  am,  I  cannot  but 
reflect  that  my  kinswoman  has,  in  all  events,  the  sup- 
port of  an  affectionate  husband;  such  is  the  interested 
reasoning  to  which  we  are  not  ashamed  to  subject  our 
better  feelings ! ' 

'Do  not  call  it  so,  madam,'  answered  Peveril;  'think 
of  me  but  as  the  younger  brother  of  my  kinsman.  You 
have  ever  done  by  me  the  duties  of  a  mother;  and  have 
a  right  to  my  filial  service,  were  it  at  a  risk  ten  times 
greater  than  a  journey  to  London,  to  inquire  into  the 
temper  of  the  times.  I  will  instantly  go  and  announce 
my  departure  to  the  earl.' 

'Stay,  Julian, '  said  the  countess;  'if  you  must  make 
this  journey  in  our  behalf  —  and,  alas!  I  have  not  gen- 
erosity enough  to  refuse  your  noble  proffer  —  you  must 
go  alone,  and  without  communication  with  Derby.  I 
know  him  well :  his  lightness  of  mind  is  free  from  selfish 
baseness;  and  for  the  world,  would  he  not  suffer  you  to 
leave  Man  without  his  company.  And  if  he  went  with 
you,  your  noble  and  disinterested  kindness  would  be 
of  no  avail ;  you  would  but  share  his  ruin,  as  the  swim- 
mer who  attempts  to  save  a  drowning  man  is  involved 
in  his  fate,  if  he  permit  the  sufiferer  to  grapple  with 
him.' 

'It  shall  be  as  you  please,  madam,'  said  Peveril;  *I 
am  ready  to  depart  upon  half  an  hour's  notice.' 

299 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'This  night,  then,'  said  the  countess,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause  — '  this  night  I  will  arrange  the  most 
secret  means  of  carrying  your  generous  project  into 
effect ;  for  I  would  not  excite  that  prejudice  against  you 
which  will  instantly  arise  were  it  known  you  had  so 
lately  left  this  island  and  its  Popish  lady.  You  will  do 
well,  perhaps,  to  use  a  feigned  name  in  London.' 

'Pardon  me,  madam,'  said  JuUan;  'I  will  do  nothing 
that  can  draw  on  me  imnecessary  attention ;  but  to  bear 
a  feigned  name,  or  affect  any  disguise  beyond  living  with 
extreme  privacy,  would,  I  think,  be  unwise  as  well  as 
unworthy,  and  what,  if  challenged,  I  might  find  some 
difficulty  in  assigning  a  reason  for,  consistent  with  per- 
fect fairness  of  intentions.' 

*I  believe  you  are  right,'  answered  the  countess,  after 
a  moment's  consideration;  and  then  added,  'You  pro- 
pose, doubtless,  to  pass  through  Derbyshire  and  visit 
Martindale  Castle?' 

'I  should  wish  it,  madam,  certainly,'  replied  Peveril, 
'did  time  permit  and  circumstances  render  it  advisable.' 

'Of  that,'  said  the  countess,  'you  must  yourself  judge. 
Despatch  is,  doubtless,  desirable;  on  the  other  hand, 
arriving  from  your  own  family  seat,  you  will  be  less  an 
object  of  doubt  and  suspicion  than  if  you  posted  up 
from  hence,  without  even  visiting  your  parents.  You 
must  be  guided  in  this  —  in  all  —  by  your  own  prudence. 
Go,  my  dearest  son  —  for  to  me  you  should  be  dear  as  a 
son  —  go,  and  prepare  for  your  journey.  I  will  get 
ready  some  despatches  and  a  supply  of  money.  Nay, 
do  not  object.  Am  I  not  your  mother;  and  are  you  not 
discharging  a  son's  duty?  Dispute  not  my  right  of  de- 
fraying your  expenses.  Nor  is  this  all;  for,  as  I  must 

300 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

trust  your  zeal  and  prudence  to  act  in  our  behalf  when 
occasion  shall  demand,  I  will  furnish  you  with  efifectual 
recommendations  to  our  friends  and  kindred,  entreating 
and  enjoining  them  to  render  whatever  aid  you  may  re- 
quire, either  for  your  own  protection  or  the  advance- 
ment of  what  you  may  propose  in  our  favour.' 

Peveril  made  no  further  opposition  to  an  arrangement 
which  in  truth  the  moderate  state  of  his  own  finances 
rendered  almost  indispensable,  unless  with  his  father's 
assistance;  and  the  countess  put  into  his  hand  bills  of 
exchange  to  the  amount  of  two  hundred  pounds,  upon 
a  merchant  in  the  city.  She  then  dismissed  Julian  for 
the  space  of  an  hour;  after  which,  she  said,  she  must 
again  require  his  presence. 

The  preparations  for  his  journey  were  not  of  a  nature 
to  divert  the  thoughts  which  speedily  pressed  on  him. 
He  found  that  half  an  hour's  conversation  had  once 
more  completely  changed  his  immediate  prospects  and 
plans  for  the  future.  He  had  offered  to  the  Countess  of 
Derby  a  service  which  her  uniform  kindness  had  well 
deserved  at  his  hand;  but,  by  her  accepting  it,  he  was 
upon  the  point  of  being  separated  from  Alice  Bridge- 
north,  at  a  time  when  she  was  become  dearer  to  him 
than  ever,  by  her  avowal  of  mutual  passion.  Her  image 
rose  before  him,  such  as  he  had  that  day  pressed  her  to 
his  bosom;  her  voice  was  in  his  ear,  and  seemed  to  ask 
whether  he  could  desert  her  in  the  crisis  which  every- 
thing seemed  to  announce  as  impending.  But  Julian 
Peveril,  his  youth  considered,  was  strict  in  judging  his 
duty,  and  severely  resolved  in  executing  it.  He  trusted 
not  his  imagination  to  pursue  the  vision  which  presented 
itself;  but  resolutely  seizing  his  pen,  wrote  to  Alice  the 

301 

^'1     ilf^f^Sr^i     OTSTV 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

following  letter,  explaining  his  situation,  as  far  as  Jus- 
tice to  the  countess  permitted  him  to  do  so:  — 

*I  leave  you,  dearest  Alice,'  thus  ran  the  letter  —  'I 
leave  you;  and  though,  in  doing  so,  I  but  obey  the  com- 
mand you  have  laid  on  me,  yet  I  can  claim  little  merit 
for  my  compUance,  since,  without  additional  and  most 
forcible  reasons  in  aid  of  your  orders,  I  fear  I  should 
have  been  unable  to  comply  with  them.  But  family 
affairs  of  importance  compel  me  to  absent  myself  from 
this  island,  for,  I  fear,  more  than  one  week.  My  thoughts, 
hopes,  and  wishes  will  be  on  the  moment  that  shall 
restore  me  to  the  Black  Fort  and  its  lovely  valley.  Let 
me  hope  that  yours  will  sometimes  rest  on  the  lonely 
exile,  whom  nothing  could  render  such  but  the  com- 
mand of  honour  and  duty.  Do  not  fear  that  I  mean  to 
involve  you  in  a  private  correspondence,  and  let  not 
your  father  fear  it.  I  could  not  love  you  so  much,  but 
for  the  openness  and  candour  of  your  nature;  and  I 
would  not  that  you  concealed  from  Major  Bridgenorth 
one  syllable  of  what  I  now  avow.  Respecting  other 
matters,  he  himself  cannot  desire  the  welfare  of  our 
common  country  with  more  zeal  than  I  do.  Differences 
may  occur  concerning  the  mode  in  which  that  is  to  be 
obtained;  but,  in  the  principle,  I  am  convinced  there 
can  be  only  one  mind  between  us;  nor  can  I  refuse  to 
listen  to  his  experience  and  wisdom,  even  where  they 
may  ultimately  fail  to  convince  me.  Farewell,  Alice  — • 
farewell!  Much  might  be  added  to  that  melancholy 
word,  but  nothing  that  could  express  the  bitterness  with 
which  it  is  written.  Yet  I  could  transcribe  it  again  and 
again,  rather  than  conclude  the  last  communication 
which  I  can  have  with  you  for  some  time.    My  sole 

302 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

comfort  is,  that  my  stay  will  scarce  be  so  long  as  to  per- 
mit you  to  forget  one  who  never  can  forget  you.' 

He  held  the  paper  in  his  hand  for  a  minute  after  he 
had  folded,  but  before  he  had  sealed,  it,  while  he  hur- 
riedly debated  in  his  own  mind  whether  he  had  not  ex- 
pressed himself  towards  Major  Bridgenorth  in  so  con- 
ciliating a  manner  as  might  excite  hopes  of  proselytism 
which  his  conscience  told  him  he  could  not  realise  with 
honour.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  no  right,  from 
what  Bridgenorth  had  said,  to  conclude  that  their 
principles  were  diametrically  irreconcilable;  for  though 
the  son  of  a  high  Cavalier,  and  educated  in  the  family 
of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  he  was  himself,  upon  princi- 
ple, an  enemy  of  prerogative  and  a  friend  to  the  liberty 
of  the  subject.  And  with  such  considerations  he  silenced 
all  internal  objections  on  the  point  of  honour;  although 
his  conscience  secretly  whispered  that  these  conciliatory 
expressions  towards  the  father  were  chiefly  dictated  by 
the  fear  that,  during  his  absence,  Major  Bridgenorth 
might  be  tempted  to  change  the  residence  of  his  daugh- 
ter, and  perhaps  to  convey  her  altogether  out  of  his 
reach. 

Having  sealed  his  letter,  Julian  called  his  servant,  and 
directed  him  to  carry  it,  under  cover  of  one  addressed  to 
Mrs.  Debbitch,  to  a  house  in  the  town  of  Rushin,  where 
packets  and  messages  intended  for  the  family  at  Black 
Fort  were  usually  deposited;  and  for  that  purpose  to 
take  horse  immediately.  He  thus  got  rid  of  an  attend- 
ant who  might  have  been  in  some  degree  a  spy  on  his 
motions.  He  then  exchanged  the  dress  he  usually  wore 
for  one  more  suited  to  travelling;  and,  having  put  a 
change  or  two  of  linen  into  a  small  cloak-bag,  selected 

303 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  arms  a  strong  double-edged  sword  and  an  excellent 
pair  of  pistols,  which  last  he  carefully  loaded  with  dou- 
ble bullets.  Thus  appointed,  and  with  twenty  pieces 
in  his  purse,  and  the  bills  we  have  mentioned  secured  in 
a  private  pocket-book,  he  was  in  readiness  to  depart  as 
soon  as  he  should  receive  the  countess's  commands. 

The  buoyant  spirit  of  youth  and  hope,  which  had,  for 
a  moment,  been  chilled  by  the  painful  and  dubious  cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  was  placed,  as  well  as  the  depriv- 
ation which  he  was  about  to  undergo,  now  revived  in  full 
vigour.  Fancy,  turning  from  more  painful  anticipations, 
suggested  to  him  that  he  was  now  entering  upon  life  at 
a  crisis  when  resolution  and  talents  were  almost  certain 
to  make  the  fortune  of  their  possessor.  How  could  he 
make  a  more  honourable  entry  on  the  bustling  scene 
than  sent  by,  and  acting  in  behalf  of,  one  of  the  noblest 
houses  in  England;  and  should  he  perform  what  his 
charge  might  render  incumbent  with  the  resolution  and 
the  prudence  necessary  to  secure  success,  how  many 
occurrences  might  take  place  to  render  his  mediation 
necessary  to  Bridgenorth;  and  thus  enable  him,  on  the 
most  equal  and  honourable  terms,  to  establish  a  claim 
to  his  gratitude  and  to  his  daughter's  hand. 

Whilst  he  was  dwelling  on  such  pleasing,  though  im- 
aginary, prospects,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming  aloud 
—  *Yes,  Alice,  I  will  win  thee  nobly!'  The  words  had 
scarce  escaped  his  lips,  when  he  heard  at  the  door  of  his 
apartment,  which  the  servant  had  left  ajar,  a  sound  like 
a  deep  sigh,  which  was  instantly  succeeded  by  a  gentle 
tap.  'Come  in,'  replied  Julian,  somewhat  ashamed  of 
his  exclamation,  and  not  a  little  afraid  that  it  had  been 
caught  up  by  some  eavesdropper.    'Come  in,'  he  again 

304 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

repeated.  But  his  command  was  not  obeyed;  on  the 
contrary,  the  knock  was  repeated  somewhat  louder. 
He  opened  the  door,  and  Fenella  stood  before  him. 

With  eyes  that  seemed  red  with  recent  tears,  and  with 
a  look  of  the  deepest  dejection,  the  little  mute,  first 
touching  her  bosom  and  beckoning  with  her  finger,  made 
to  him  the  usual  sign  that  the  countess  desired  to  see 
him,  then  turned,  as  if  to  usher  him  to  her  apartment. 
As  he  followed  her  through  the  long,  gloomy,  vaulted 
passages  which  afforded  communication  betwixt  the 
various  departments  of  the  castle,  he  could  not  but 
observe  that  her  usual  light  trip  was  exchanged  for  a 
tardy  and  mournful  step,  which  she  accompanied  with 
low,  inarticulate  moaning  (which  she  was  probably  the 
less  able  to  suppress,  because  she  could  not  judge  how 
far  it  was  audible),  and  also  with  wringing  of  the  hands, 
and  other  marks  of  extreme  affliction. . 

At  this  moment  a  thought  came  across  Peveril's 
mind,  which,  in  spite  of  his  better  reason,  made  him 
shudder  involuntarily.  As  a  Peaksman,  and  a  long 
resident  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  many  a  superstitious  legend,  and  particularly  with 
a  belief  which  attached  to  the  powerful  family  of  the 
Stanleys,  for  their  peculiar  demon,  a  banshie,  or  female 
spirit,  who  was  wont  to  shriek,  'foreboding  evil  times'; 
and  who  was  generally  seen  weeping  and  bemoaning 
herself  before  the  death  of  any  person  of  distinction 
belonging  to  the  family.  For  an  instant,  Julian  could 
scarce  divest  himself  of  the  belief  that  the  wailing, 
gibbering  form,  which  glided  before  him,  with  a  lamp 
in  her  hand,  was  the  genius  of  his  mother's  race  come 
to  announce  to  him  his  predestined  doom.  It  instantly 
«7  305 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


occurred  to  him  as  an  analogous  reflection,  that,  if  the 
suspicion  which  had  crossed  his  mind  concerning  Fenella 
was  a  just  one,  her  ill-fated  attachment  to  him,  like 
that  of  the  prophetic  spirit  to  his  family,  could  bode 
nothing  but  disaster,  and  lamentation,  and  woe. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Now,  hoist  the  anchor,  mates,  and  let  the  sails 
Give  their  broad  bosom  to  the  buxom  wind, 
Like  lass  that  wooes  a  lovei. 

Anonymous, 

The  presence  of  the  countess  dispelled  the  superstitious 
feeling  which,  for  an  instant,  had  encroached  on  Julian's 
imagination,  and  compelled  him  to  give  attention  to  the 
matters  of  ordinary  life.  'Here  are  your  credentials,' 
she  said,  giving  him  a  small  packet  carefully  put  up  in 
a  sealskin  cover;  'you  had  better  not  open  them  till  you 
come  to  London.  You  must  not  be  surprised  to  find 
that  there  are  one  or  two  addressed  to  men  of  my  own 
persuasion.  These,  for  all  our  sakes,  you  will  observe 
caution  in  delivering.' 

'I  go  your  messenger,  madam,'  said  Peveril;  'and 
whatever  you  desire  me  to  charge  myself  with,  of  that 
I  undertake  the  care.  Yet  allow  me  to  doubt  whether 
an  intercourse  with  Catholics  will  at  this  moment  for- 
ward the  purposes  of  my  mission.' 

'You  have  caught  the  general  suspicion  of  this  wicked 
sect  already,'  said  the  countess,  smiling,  'and  are  the 
fitter  to  go  amongst  Englishmen  in  their  present  mood. 
But,  my  cautious  friend,  these  letters  are  so  addressed, 
and  the  persons  to  whom  they  are  addressed  so  dis- 
guised, that  you  will  run  no  danger  in  conversing  with 
them.  Without  their  aid,  indeed,  you  will  not  be  able 
to  obtain  the  accurate  information  you  go  in  search  of. 
None  can  tell  so  exactly  how  the  wind  sets  as  the  pilot 

307 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

whose  vessel  is  exposed  to  the  storm.  Besides,  though 
you  Protestants  deny  our  priesthood  the  harmlessness 
of  the  dove,  you  are  ready  enough  to  allow  us  a  full 
share  of  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent;  in  plain  terms,  their 
means  of  information  are  extensive,  and  they  are  not 
deficient  in  the  power  of  applying  it.  I  therefore  wish 
you  to  have  the  benefit  of  their  intelligence  and  advice, 
if  possible.' 

'Whatever  you  impose  on  me  as  a  part  of  my  duty, 
madam,  rely  on  its  being  discharged  punctually,'  an- 
swered Peveril.  'And  now,  as  there  is  Httle  use  in  defer- 
ring the  execution  of  a  purpose  when  once  fixed,  let  me 
know  your  ladyship's  wishes  concerning  my  departure.' 

'It  must  be  sudden  and  secret/  said  the  countess;  'the 
island  is  full  of  spies ;  and  I  would  not  wish  that  any  of 
them  should  have  notice  that  an  envoy  of  mine  was 
about  to  leave  Man  for  London.  Can  you  be  ready  to 
go  on  board  to-morrow? ' 

'To-night  —  this  instant  if  you  will,'  said  Julian;  'my 
little  preparations  are  complete.' 

'Be  ready,  then,  in  your  chamber,  at  two  hours  after 
midnight.  I  will  send  one  to  summon  you,  for  our  secret 
must  be  communicated,  for  the  present,  to  as  few  as 
possible.  A  foreign  sloop  is  engaged  to  carry  you  over; 
then  make  the  best  of  your  way  to  London,  by  Martin- 
dale  Castle  or  otherwise,  as  you  find  most  advisable. 
When  it  is  necessary  to  announce  your  absence,  I  will 
say  you  are  gone  to  see  your  parents.  But  stay- —  your 
journey  will  be  on  horseback,  of  course,  from  White- 
haven. You  have  bills  of  exchange,  it  is  true;  but  are 
you  provided  with  ready  money  to  furnish  yourself  with 
a  good  horse?' 

308 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*I  am  sufl&ciently  rich,  madam,'  answered  Julian;  'and 
good  nags  are  plenty  in  Cumberland.  There  are  those 
among  them  who  know  how  to  come  by  them  good  and 
cheap.' 

'Trust  not  to  that,'  said  the  countess.  'Here  is  what 
will  purchase  for  you  the  best  horse  on  the  Borders. 
Can  you  be  simple  enough  to  refuse  it?'  she  added,  as 
she  pressed  on  him  a  heavy  purse,  which  he  saw  himself 
obliged  to  accept. 

'A  good  horse,  Julian,'  continued  the  countess,  'and 
a  good  sword,  next  to  a  good  heart  and  head,  are  the 
accomplishments  of  a  cavalier.' 

'I  kiss  your  hands,  then,  madam,'  said  Peveril,  'and 
humbly  beg  you  to  believe  that,  whatever  may  fail  in 
my  present  undertaking,  my  purpose  to  serve  you,  my 
noble  kinswoman  and  benefactress,  can  at  least  never 
swerve  or  falter.' 

*  I  know  it,  my  son  —  I  know  it;  and  may  God  forgive 
me  if  my  anxiety  for  your  friend  has  sent  you  on  dan- 
gers which  should  have  been  his !  Go  —  go.  May  saints 
and  angels  bless  you!  Fenella  shall  acquaint  him  that 
you  sup  in  your  own  apartment.  So  indeed  will  I;  for 
to-night  I  should  be  unable  to  face  my  son's  looks. 
Little  will  he  thank  me  for  sending  you  on  his  errand; 
and  there  will  be  many  to  ask  whether  it  was  like  the 
Lady  of  Latham  to  thrust  her  friend's  son  on  the  danger 
which  should  have  been  braved  by  her  own.  But  O! 
Julian,  I  am  now  a  forlorn  widow,  whom  sorrow  has 
made  selfish !' 

'Tush,  madam,'  answered  Peveril;  'it  is  more  unlike 
the  Lady  of  Latham  to  anticipate  dangers  which  may 
not  exist  at  all,  and  to  which,  if  they  do  indeed  occur, 

309 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

I  am  less  obnoxious  than  my  noble  kinsman.  Farewell ! 
All  blessings  attend  you,  madam.  Commend  me  to 
Derby,  and  make  him  my  excuses.  I  shall  expect  a 
summons  at  two  hours  after  midnight.' 

They  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  each  other;  the 
more  affectionate,  indeed,  on  the  part  of  the  countess, 
that  she  could  not  entirely  reconcile  her  generous  mind 
to  exposing  Peveril  to  danger  on  her  son's  behalf;  and 
Julian  betook  himself  to  his  solitary  apartment. 

His  servant  soon  afterwards  brought  him  wine  and 
refreshments;  to  which,  notwithstanding  the  various 
matters  he  had  to  occupy  his  mind,  he  contrived  to  do 
reasonable  justice.  But  when  this  needful  occupation 
was  finished,  his  thoughts  began  to  stream  in  upon  him 
like  a  troubled  tide  —  at  once  recalling  the  past  and  an- 
ticipating the  future.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  wrapped 
himself  in  his  riding-cloak,  and,  lying  down  on  his  bed, 
endeavoured  to  compose  himself  to  sleep.  The  uncer- 
tainty of  the  prospect  before  him,  the  doubt  how  Bridge- 
north  might  dispose  of  his  daughter  during  his  absence, 
the  fear  that  the  major  himself  might  fall  into  the  power 
of  the  vindictive  countess,  besides  a  numerous  train 
of  vague  and  half-formed  apprehensions,  agitated  his 
blood,  and  rendered  slumber  impossible.  Alternately 
to  recline  in  the  old  oaken  easy-chair  and  listen  to  the 
dashingof  thewaves  under  the  windows,  mingled,  as  the 
sound  was,  with  the  scream  of  the  sea-birds,  or  to  tra- 
verse the  apartment  with  long  and  slow  steps,  pausing 
occasionally  to  look  out  on  the  sea,  slumbering  under 
the  influence  of  a  full  moon,  which  tipped  each  wave 
with  silver  —  such  were  the  only  pastimes  he  could  in- 
vent, until  midnight  had  passed  for  one  hour;  the  next 

310 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

was  wasted  in  anxious  expectation  of  the  summons  of 
departure. 

At  length  it  arrived :  a  tap  at  his  door  was  followed  by 
a  low  murmur,  which  made  him  suspect  that  the  count- 
ess had  again  employed  her  mute  attendant  as  the  most 
secure  minister  of  her  pleasure  on  this  occasion.  He  felt 
something  like  impropriety  in  this  selection;  and  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  impatience  alien  to  the  natural  generos- 
ity of  his  temper  that,  when  he  opened  the  door,  he  be- 
held the  dumb  maiden  standing  before  him.  The  lamp 
which  he  held  in  his  hand  showed  his  features  distinctly, 
and  probably  made  Fenella  aware  of  the  expression 
which  animated  them.  She  cast  her  large  dark  eyes 
mournfully  on  the  ground;  and,  without  again  looking 
him  in  the  face,  made  him  a  signal  to  follow  her.  He  de- 
layed no  longer  than  was  necessary  to  secure  his  pistols 
in  his  belt,  wrap  his  cloak  closer  around  him,  and  take 
his  small  portmanteau  under  his  arm.  Thus  accoutred, 
he  followed  her  out  of  the  keep,  or  inhabited  part  of  the 
castle,  by  a  series  of  obscure  passages  leading  to  a  pos- 
tern gate,  which  she  unlocked  with  a  key,  selected  from 
a  bundle  which  she  carried  at  her  girdle. 

They  now  stood  in  the  castle-yard,  in  the  open  moon- 
light, which  glimmered  white  and  ghastly  on  the  variety 
of  strange  and  ruinous  objects  to  which  we  have  for- 
merly alluded,  and  which  gave  the  scene  rather  the  ap- 
pearance of  some  ancient  cemetery  than  of  the  interior 
of  a  fortification.  The  round  and  elevated  tower,  the 
ancient  mount,  with  its  quadrangular  sides  facing  the 
ruinous  edifices  which  once  boasted  the  name  of  cathe- 
dral, seemed  of  yet  more  antique  and  anomalous  form 
when  seen  by  the  pale  Ught  which  now  displayed  them. 

311 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

To  one  of  these  churches  Fenella  took  the  direct  course, 
and  was  followed  by  Julian;  although  he  at  once  divined, 
and  was  superstitious  enough  to  dislike,  the  path  which 
she  was  about  to  adopt.  It  was  by  a  secret  passage 
through  this  church  that  in  former  times  the  guard- 
room of  the  garrison,  situated  at  the  lower  and  external 
defences,  communicated  with  the  keep  of  the  castle; 
and  through  this  passage  were  the  keys  of  the  castle 
every  night  carried  to  the  governor's  apartment,  so  soon 
as  the  gates  were  locked  and  the  watch  set.  The  custom 
was  given  up  in  James  the  First's  time,  and  the  passage 
abandoned,  on  account  of  the  well-known  legend  of  the 
'Mauthe  Dog'  —  a  fiend,  or  demon,  in  the  shape  of  a 
large,  shaggy,  black  mastiff,  by  which  the  church  was 
said  to  be  haunted.  It  was  devoutly  believed  that  in 
former  times  this  spectre  became  so  familiar  with  man- 
kind as  to  appear  almost  nightly  in  the  guard-room, 
issuing  from  the  passage  which  we  have  mentioned  at 
night,  and  retiring  to  it  at  daybreak.  The  soldiers  be- 
came partly  familiarised  to  its  presence ;  yet  not  so  much 
so  as  to  use  any  license  of  language  while  the  apparition 
was  visible ;  until  one  fellow,  rendered  daring  by  intoxi- 
cation, swore  he  would  know  whether  it  was  dog  or  devil, 
and,  with  his  drawn  sword,  followed  the  spectre  when  it 
retreated  by  the  usual  passage.  The  man  returned  in  a 
few  minutes,  sobered  by  terror,  his  mouth  gaping,  and 
his  hair  standing  on  end,  under  which  horror  he  died; 
but,  unhappily  for  the  lovers  of  the  marvellous,  alto- 
gether unable  to  disclose  the  horrors  which  he  had  seen. 
Under  the  evil  repute  arising  from  this  tale  of  wonder, 
the  guard-room  was  abandoned  and  a  new  one  con- 
structed.  In  like  manner,  the  guards  after  that  period 

312 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

held  another  and  more  circuitous  communication  with 
the  governor  or  seneschal  of  the  castle;  and  that  which 
lay  through  the  ruinous  church  was  entirely  abandoned. '^ 
In  defiance  of  the  legendary  terrors  which  tradition 
had  attached  to  the  original  communication,  Fenella, 
followed  by  Peveril,  now  boldly  traversed  the  ruinous 
vaults  through  which  it  lay;  sometimes  only  guided  over 
heaps  of  ruins  by  the  precarious  light  of  the  lamp  borne 
by  the  dumb  maiden;  sometimes  having  the  advantage 
of  a  gleam  of  moonlight,  darting  into  the  dreary  abyss 
through  the  shafted  windows,  or  through  breaches  made 
by  time.  As  the  path  was  by  no  means  a  straight  one, 
Peveril  could  not  but  admire  the  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  mazes  which  his  singular  companion  displayed, 
as  well  as  the  boldness  with  which  she  traversed  them. 
He  himself  was  not  so  utterly  void  of  the  prejudices  of 
the  times,  but  that  he  contemplated,  with  some  appre- 
hension, the  possibiHty  of  their  intruding  on  the  lair  of 
the  phantom-hound,  of  which  he  had  heard  so  often; 
and  in  every  remote  sigh  of  the  breeze  among  the  ruins 
he  thought  he  heard  him  baying  at  the  mortal  footsteps 
which  disturbed  his  gloomy  realm.  No  such  terrors, 
however,  interrupted  their  journey;  and  in  the  course 
of  a  few  minutes  they  attained  the  deserted  and  now 
ruinous  guard-house.  The  broken  walls  of  the  little  edi- 
fice served  to  conceal  them  from  the  sentinels,  one  of 
whom  was  keeping  a  drowsy  watch  at  the  lower  gate  of 
the  castle;  whilst  another,  seated  on  the  stone  steps 
which  communicated  with  the  parapet  of  the  bounding 
and  exterior  wall,  was  slumbering,  in  full  security,  with 

^  This  curious  legend,  and  many  others,  in  which  the  Isle  of  Man  is 
perhaps  richer  than  even  Ireland,  Wales,  or  the  Highlands  of  Scotland, 
will  be  found  in  Note  ii,  p.  411. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  musket  peacefully  grounded  by  his  side.  Fenella 
made  a  sign  to  Peveril  to  move  with  silence  and  caution, 
and  then  showed  him,  to  his  surprise,  from  the  window 
of  the  deserted  guard-room,  a  boat,  for  it  was  now  high 
water,  with  four  rowers,  lurking  under  the  cliff  on  which 
the  castle  was  built;  and  made  him  further  sensible  that 
he  was  to  have  access  to  it  by  a  ladder  of  considerable 
height  placed  at  the  window  of  the  ruin. 

Julian  was  both  displeased  and  alarmed  by  the  secur- 
ity and  carelessness  of  the  sentinels,  who  had  suffered 
such  preparations  to  be  made  without  observation  or 
alarm  given;  and  he  hesitated  whether  he  should  not 
call  the  officer  of  the  guard,  upbraid  him  with  negligence, 
and  show  him  how  easily  Holm-Peel,  in  spite  of  its  natu- 
ral strength,  and  although  reported  impregnable,  might 
be  surprised  by  a  few  resolute  men.  Fenella  seemed  to 
guess  his  thoughts  with  that  extreme  acuteness  of  ob- 
servation which  her  deprivations  had  occasioned  her 
acquiring.  She  laid  one  hand  on  his  arm,  and  a  finger 
of  the  other  on  her  own  lips,  as  if  to  enjoin  forbearance; 
and  Julian,  knowing  that  she  acted  by  the  direct  author- 
ity of  the  countess,  obeyed  her  accordingly;  but  with 
the  internal  resolution  to  lose  no  time  in  communicating 
his  sentiments  to  the  earl,  concerning  the  danger  to 
which  the  castle  was  exposed  on  this  point. 

In  the  meantime,  he  descended  the  ladder  with  some 
precaution,  for  the  steps  were  unequal,  broken,  wet,  and 
sHppery;  and  having  placed  himself  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat,  made  a  signal  to  the  men  to  push  off,  and  turned 
to  take  farewell  of  his  guide.  To  his  utter  astonishment, 
Fenella  rather  slid  down  than  descended  regularly  the 
perilous  ladder,  and  the  boat  being  already  pushed  off, 

314 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK' 

made  a  spring  from  the  last  step  of  it  with  incredible 
agility,  and  seated  herself  beside  Peveril,  ere  he  could 
express  either  remonstrance  or  surprise.  He  commanded 
the  men  once  more  to  pull  in  to  the  precarious  landing- 
place;  and  throwing  into  his  countenance  a  part  of  the 
displeasure  which  he  really  felt,  endeavoured  to  make 
her  comprehend  the  necessity  of  returning  to  her  mis- 
tress. Fenella  folded  her  arms  and  looked  at  him  with  a 
haughty  smile,  which  completely  expressed  the  deter- 
mination of  her  purpose.  Peveril  was  extremely  embar- 
rassed; he  was  afraid  of  offending  the  countess,  and  in- 
terfering with  her  plan,  by  giving  alarm,  which  otherwise 
he  was  much  tempted  to  have  done.  On  Fenella,  it  was 
evident,  no  species  of  argument  which  he  could  employ 
was  likely  to  make  the  least  impression ;  and  the  question 
remained  how,  if  she  went  on  with  him,  he  was  to  rid 
himself  of  so  singular  and  inconvenient  a  companion, 
and  provide,  at  the  same  time,  sufficiently  for  her  per- 
sonal security. 

The  boatmen  brought  the  matter  to  a  decision;  for, 
after  lying  on  their  oars  for  a  minute  and  whispering 
among  themselves  in  Low  Dutch  or  German,  they  began 
to  pull  stoutly,  and  were  soon  at  some  distance  from  the 
castle.  The  possibility  of  the  sentinels  sending  a  musket- 
ball,  or  even  a  cannon-shot  after  them  was  one  of  the 
contingencies  which  gave  Peveril  momentary  anxiety; 
but  they  left  the  fortress,  as  they  must  have  approached 
it,  unnoticed,  or  at  least  unchallenged  —  a  carelessness 
on  the  part  of  the  garrison  which,  notwithstanding  that 
the  oars  were  muffled  and  that  the  men  spoke  Httle,  and 
in  whispers,  argued,  in  Peveril's  opinion,  great  negli- 
gence on  the  part  of  the  sentinels.   When  they  were  a 

315 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

little  way  from  the  castle,  the  men  began  to  row  briskly 
towards  a  small  vessel  which  lay  at  some  distance.  Pev- 
eril  had,  in  the  meantime,  leisure  to  remark  that  the 
boatmen  spoke  to  each  other  doubtfully,  and  bent  anx- 
ious looks  on  Fenella,  as  if  uncertain  whether  they  had 
acted  properly  in  bringing  her  off. 

After  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  rowing,  they 
reached  the  Httle  sloop,  where  Peveril  was  received  by 
the  skipper,  or  captain,  on  the  quarter-deck,  with  an 
offer  of  spirits  or  refreshments.  A  word  or  two  among 
the  seamen  withdrew  the  captain  from  his  hospitable 
cares,  and  he  flew  to  the  ship's  side,  apparently  to  pre- 
vent Fenella  from  entering  the  vessel.  The  men  and  he 
talked  eagerly  in  Dutch,  looking  anxiously  at  Fenella 
as  they  spoke  together;  and  Peveril  hoped  the  result 
would  be  that  the  poor  yoimg  woman  should  be  sent 
ashore  again.  But  she  baffled  whatever  opposition  could 
be  offered  to  her ;  and  when  the  accommodation-ladder, 
as  it  is  called,  was  withdrawn,  she  snatched  the  end  of 
a  rope,  and  cHmbed  on  board  with  the  dexterity  of 
a  sailor,  leaving  them  no  means  of  preventing  her  en- 
trance, save  by  actual  violence,  to  which  apparently 
they  did  not  choose  to  have  recourse.  Once  on  deck, 
she  took  the  captain  by  the  sleeve,  and  led  him  to  the 
head  of  the  vessel,  where  they  seemed  to  hold  inter- 
course in  a  manner  intelligible  to  both. 

Peveril  soon  forgot  the  presence  of  the  mute,  as  he  be- 
gan to  muse  upon  his  own  situation,  and  the  probability 
that  he  was  separated  for  some  considerable  time  from 
the  object  of  his  affections.  'Constancy,'  he  repeated 
to  himself —  'constancy.'  And,  as  if  in  coincidence  with 
the  theme  of  his  reflections,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the 

316 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

polar  star,  wliich  that  night  twinkled  with  more  than 
ordinary  brilliancy.  Emblem  of  pure  passion  and  steady 
purpose  —  the  thoughts  which  arose  as  he  viewed  its 
clear  and  unchanging  light  were  disinterested  and  noble. 
To  seek  his  country's  welfare,  and  secure  the  blessings 
of  domestic  peace;  to  discharge  a  bold  and  perilous  duty 
to  his  friend  and  patron;  to  regard  his  passion  for  Alice 
Bridgenorth  as  the  loadstar  which  was  to  guide  him  to 
noble  deeds  —  were  the  resolutions  which  thronged  upon 
his  mind,  and  which  exalted  his  spirits  to  that  state  of 
romantic  melancholy  which  perhaps  is  ill  exchanged 
even  for  feelings  of  joyful  rapture. 

He  was  recalled  from  these  contemplations  by  some- 
thing which  nestled  itself  softly  and  closely  to  his  side  — 
a  woman's  sigh  sounded  so  near  him  as  to  disturb  his 
reverie;  and  as  he  turned  his  head,  he  saw  Fenella  seated 
beside  him,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  same  star  which 
had  just  occupied  his  own.  His  first  emotion  was  that 
of  displeasure;  but  it  was  impossible  to  persevere  in  it 
towards  a  being  so  helpless  in  many  respects,  so  interest- 
ing in  others ;  whose  large  dark  eyes  were  filled  with  dew, 
which  ghstened  in  the  moonlight;  and  the  source  of  whose 
emotions  seemed  to  be  in  a  partiaHty  which  might  well 
claim  indulgence,  at  least,  from  him  who  was  the  object 
of  it.  At  the  same  time,  JuHan  resolved  to  seize  the 
present  opportunity  for  such  expostulations  with  Fen- 
ella on  the  strangeness  of  her  conduct  as  the  poor  maiden 
might  be  able  to  comprehend.  He  took  her  hand  with 
great  kindness,  but  at  the  same  time  with  much  gravity, 
pointed  to  the  boat,  and  to  the  castle,  whose  towers  and 
extended  walls  were  now  scarce  visible  in  the  distance; 
and  thus  intimated  to  her  the  necessity  of  her  return  to 

317 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Holm-Peel.  She  looked  down  and  shook  her  head,  as 
if  negativmg  his  proposal  with  obstinate  decision.  Ju- 
lian renewed  his  expostulation  by  look  and  gesture  — 
pointed  to  his  own  heart,  to  intimate  the  countess,  and 
bent  his  brows,  to  show  the  displeasure  which  she  must 
entertain;  to  all  which,  the  maiden  only  answered  by 
her  tears. 

At  length,  as  if  driven  to  explanation  by  his  continued 
remonstrances,  she  suddenly  seized  him  by  the  arm,  to 
arrest  his  attention;  cast  her  eye  hastily  around,  as  if 
to  see  whether  she  was  watched  by  any  one;  then  drew 
the  other  hand,  edge-wise,  across  her  slender  throat, 
pointed  to  the  boat  and  to  the  castle,  and  nodded. 

On  this  series  of  signs,  Peveril  could  put  no  interpreta- 
tion excepting  that  he  was  menaced  with  some  personal 
danger,  from  which  Fenella  seemed  to  conceive  that  her 
presence  was  a  protection.  Whatever  was  her  meaning, 
her  purpose  seemed  unalterably  adopted ;  at  least,  it  was 
plain  he  had  no  power  to  shake  it.  He  must  therefore 
wait  till  the  end  of  their  short  voyage  to  disembarrass 
himself  of  his  companion;  and,  in  the  meanwhile,  acting 
on  the  idea  of  her  having  harboured  a  misplaced  attach- 
ment to  him,  he  thought  he  should  best  consult  her  in- 
terest and  his  own  character  in  keeping  at  as  great  a 
distance  from  her  as  circumstances  admitted.  With  this 
purpose,  he  made  the  sign  she  used  for  going  to  sleep, 
by  leaning  his  head  on  his  palm;  and  having  thus  recom- 
mended to  her  to  go  to  rest,  he  himself  desired  to  be 
conducted  to  his  berth. 

The  captain  readily  showed  him  a  hammock  in  the 
after-cabin,  into  which  he  threw  himself,  to  seek  that 
repose  which  the  exercise  and  agitation  of  the  preceding 

318 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

day,  as  well  as  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  made  him  now 
feel  desirable.  Sleep,  deep  and  heavy,  sunk  down  on 
him  in  a  few  minutes,  but  it  did  not  endure  long.  In  his 
sleep  he  was  disturbed  by  female  cries;  and  at  length, 
as  he  thought,  distinctly  heard  the  voice  of  Alice  Bridge- 
north  call  on  his  name. 

He  awoke,  and,  starting  up  to  quit  his  bed,  became 
sensible,  from  the  motion  of  the  vessel  and  the  swinging 
of  the  hammock,  that  his  dream  had  deceived  him. 
He  was  still  startled  by  its  extreme  vivacity  and  live- 
liness. 'JuUan  Peveril,  help!  —  JuHan  Peveril!'  The 
sounds  still  rung  in  his  ears;  the  accents  were  those  of 
Alice,  and  he  could  scarce  persuade  himself  that  his  im- 
agination had  deceived  him.  Could  she  be  in  the  same 
vessel?  The  thought  was  not  altogether  inconsistent 
with  her  father's  character  and  the  intrigues  in  which 
he  was  engaged;  but  then,  if  so,  to  what  peril  was  she 
exposed,  that  she  invoked  his  name  so  loudly? 

Determined  to  make  instant  inquiry,  he  jumped  out 
of  his  hammock,  half-dressed  as  he  was,  and  stumbling 
about  the  little  cabin,  which  was  as  dark  as  pitch,  at 
length,  with  considerable  difficulty,  reached  the  door. 
The  door,  however,  he  was  altogether  unable  to  open; 
and  was  obliged  to  call  loudly  to  the  watch  upon  deck. 
The  skipper,  or  captain,  as  he  was  called,  being  the  only 
person  aboard  who  could  speak  English,  answered  to  the 
summons,  and  replied  to  Peveril's  demand,  what  noise 
that  was?  —  that  a  boat  was  going  off  with  the  young 
woman,  that  she  whimpered  a  Httle  as  she  left  the  vessel, 
and  'dat  vaas  all.' 

This  explanation  satisfied  Julian,  who  thought  it 
probable  that  some  degree  of  violence  might  have  been 

319 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

absolutely  necessary  to  remove  Fenella;  and  although 
he  rejoiced  at  not  having  witnessed  it,  he  could  not  feel 
sorry  that  such  had  been  employed.  Her  pertinacious 
desire  to  continue  on  board,  and  the  difficulty  of  freeing 
himseh,  when  he  should  come  ashore,  from  so  singular 
a  companion,  had  given  him  a  good  deal  of  anxiety  on  the 
preceding  night,  which  he  now  saw  removed  by  this  bold 
stroke  of  the  captain. 

His  dream  was  thus  fully  explained.  Fancy  had 
caught  up  the  inarticulate  and  vehement  cries  with 
which  Fenella  was  wont  to  express  resistance  or  dis- 
pleasure, had  coined  them  into  language,  and  given 
them  the  accents  of  AHce  Bridgenorth.  Our  imagina- 
tion plays  wilder  tricks  with  us  almost  every  night. 

The  captain  now  undid  the  door,  and  appeared  with 
a  lantern,  without  the  aid  of  which  Peveril  could  scarce 
have  regained  his  couch,  where  he  now  slumbered  se- 
cure and  sound,  until  day  was  far  advanced,  and  the  in- 
vitation of  the  captain  called  him  up  to  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Now,  what  is  this  that  haunts  me  like  my  shadow, 
Frisking  and  mumming,  like  an  elf  in  moonlight? 

Ben  Jonson. 

Peveril  found  the  master  of  the  vessel  rather  less  rude 
than  those  in  his  station  of  Hfe  usually  are,  and  received 
from  him  full  satisfaction  concerning  the  fate  of  Fenella, 
upon  whom  the  captain  bestowed  a  hearty  curse,  for 
obUging  him  to  lay-to  until  he  had  sent  his  boat  ashore 
and  had  her  back  again. 

*I  hope/  said  Peveril,  'no  violence  was  necessary  to 
reconcile  her  to  go  ashore?  I  trust  she  offered  no  foolish 
resistance? ' 

'Resist!  mein  GoU/  said  the  captain,  'she  did  resist 
like  a  troop  of  horse;  she  did  cry,  you  might  hear 
her  at  Whitehaven;  she  did  go  up  the  rigging  like 
a  cat  up  a  chimney  —  but  dat  vas  ein  trick  of  her  old 
trade.' 

'What  trade  do  you  mean?'  said  Peveril. 

'  0,'  said  the  seaman, '  I  vas  know  more  about  her  than 
you,  Mynherr.  I  vas  know  that  she  vas  a  Httle  —  very 
Httle  girl,  and  prentice  to  one  seiltanzer,  when  my  lady 
yonder  had  the  good  luck  to  buy  her.' 

'A  seiltanzer!^  said  Peveril;  'what  do  you  mean  by 
that?' 

'I  mean  a  rope-danzer,  a  mountebank,  a  Hans  Pickel- 
haring.  I  vas  know  Adrian  Brackel  veil;  he  sell  de  pow- 
ders dat  empty  men's  stomach  and  fill  him's  own  purse. 
97  321 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Not  know  Adrian  Brackel,  mein  Gott!   I  have  smoked 
many  a  pound  of  tabak  with  him.' 

Peveril  now  remembered  that  Fenella  had  been 
brought  into  the  family  when  he  and  the  young  earl 
were  in  England,  and  while  the  countess  was  absent  on 
an  expedition  to  the  Continent.  Where  the  countess 
found  her,  she  never  communicated  to  the  young  men; 
but  only  intimated  that  she  had  received  her  out  of  com- 
passion, in  order  to  relieve  her  from  a  situation  of 
extreme  distress. 

He  hinted  so  much  to  the  communicative  seaman, 
who  replied,  'That  for  distress  he  knew  nocht's  on't; 
only,  that  Adrian  Brackel  beat  her  when  she  would  not 
dance  on  the  rope,  and  starved  her  when  she  did,  to 
prevent  her  growth.'  The  bargain  between  the  countess 
and  the  mountebank, he  said,  he  had  made  himself;  be- 
cause the  countess  had  hired  his  brig  upon  her  expedi- 
tion to  the  Continent.  None  else  knew  where  she  came 
from.  The  countess  had  seen  her  on  a  public  stage  at 
Ostend,  compassionated  her  helpless  situation  and  the 
severe  treatment  she  received,  and  had  employed  him  to 
purchase  the  poor  creature  from  her  master,  and  charged 
him  with  silence  towards  all  her  retinue.^  'And  so  I  do 
keep  silence,'  continued  the  faithful  confidant,  'van  I 
am  in  the  havens  of  Man ;  but  when  I  am  on  the  broad 
seas,  den  my  tongue  is  mine  own,  you  know.  Die  fool- 
ish beoples  in  the  island,  they  say  she  is  a  wechselbalg  — 
what  you  call  a  fairy-elf  changeling.  My  faith,  they  do 
not  never  have  seen  einwechselhalg;  for  I  saw  one  myself 
at  Cologne,  and  it  was  twice  as  big  as  yonder  girl,  and 
did  break  the  poor  people,  with  eating  them  up,  like  de 
^  See  Note  14. 
322 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

great  big  cuckoo  in  the  sparrow's  nest;  but  this  Venella 
eat  no  more  than  other  girls:  it  was  no  wechselbalg  in 
the  world.' 

By  a  different  train  of  reasoning,  JuHan  had  arrived  at 
the  same  conclusion;  in  which,  therefore,  he  heartily 
acquiesced.  During  the  seaman's  prosing  he  was  reflect- 
ing within  himself  how  much  of  the  singular  flexibility 
of  her  hmbs  and  movements  the  unfortunate  girl  must 
have  derived  from  the  discipHne  and  instructions  of 
Adrian  Brackel;  and  also  how  far  the  germs  of  her  wilful 
and  capricious  passions  might  have  been  sown  during 
her  wandering  and  adventurous  childhood.  Aristo- 
cratic, also,  as  his  education  had  been,  these  anecdotes 
respecting  Fenella's  original  situation  and  education 
rather  increased  his  pleasure  at  having  shaken  ofif  her 
company;  and  yet  he  still  felt  desirous  to  know  any 
further  particulars  which  the  seaman  could  communicate 
on  the  same  subject.  But  he  had  already  told  all  he 
knew.  Of  her  parents  he  knew  nothing,  except  that  'her 
father  must  have  been  a  damned  hundsfoot  and  a  schelm, 
for  selHng  his  own  flesh  and  blood  to  Adrian  Brackel'; 
for  by  such  a  transaction  had  the  mountebank  become 
possessed  of  his  pupil. 

This  conversation  tended  to  remove  any  passing 
doubts  which  might  have  crept  on  Peveril's  mind  con- 
cerning the  fidelity  of  the  master  of  the  vessel,  who  ap- 
peared from  thence  to  have  been  a  former  acquaintance 
of  the  countess,  and  to  have  enjoyed  some  share  of  her 
confidence.  The  threatening  motion  used  by  Fenella 
he  no  longer  considered  as  worthy  of  any  notice,  except- 
ing as  a  new  mark  of  the  irritability  of  her  temper. 

He  amused  himself  with  walking  the  deck  and  musing 

323 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

on  his  past  and  future  prospects,  until  his  attention  was 
forcibly  arrested  by  the  wind,  which  began  to  rise  in 
gusts  from  the  north-west,  in  a  manner  so  unfavourable 
to  the  course  they  intended  to  hold,  that  the  master, 
after  many  efforts  to  beat  against  it,  declared  his  bark, 
which  was  by  no  means  an  excellent  sea-boat,  was  unequal 
to  making  Whitehaven;  and  that  he  was  compelled  to 
make  a  fair  wind  of  it,  and  run  for  Liverpool.  To  this 
course  Peveril  did  not  object.  It  saved  him  some  land 
journey,  in  case  he  visited  his  father's  castle;  and  the 
countess's  commission  would  be  discharged  as  effectu- 
ally the  one  way  as  the  other. 

The  vessel  was  put,  accordingly,  before  the  wind,  and 
ran  with  great  steadiness  and  velocity.  The  captain, 
notwithstanding,  pleading  some  nautical  hazards,  chose 
to  lie  off,  and  did  not  attempt  the  mouth  of  the  Mersey 
until  morning,  when  Peveril  had  at  length  the  satisfac- 
tion of  being  landed  upon  the  quay  of  Liverpool,  which 
even  then  showed  symptoms  of  the  commercial  prosper- 
ity that  has  since  been  carried  to  such  a  height. 

The  master,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  port, 
pointed  out  to  Julian  a  decent  place  of  entertainment, 
chiefly  frequented  by  seafaring  people ;  for,  although  he 
had  been  in  the  town  formerly,  he  did  not  think  it  proper 
to  go  anywhere  at  present  where  he  might  have  been 
unnecessarily  recognised.  Here  he  took  leave  of  the  sea- 
man, after  pressing  upon  him  with  difficulty  a  small 
present  for  his  crew.  As  for  his  passage,  the  captain  de- 
cHned  any  recompense  whatever ;  and  they  parted  upon 
the  most  civil  terms. 

The  inn  to  which  he  was  recommended  was  full  of 
strangers,  seamen  and  mercantile  people,  all  intent  upon 

324 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

their  own  affairs,  and  discussing  them  with  noise  and 
eagerness  peculiar  to  the  business  of  a  thriving  seaport. 
But  although  the  general  clamour  of  the  public  room, 
in  which  the  guests  mixed  with  each  other,  related 
chiefly  to  their  own  commercial  dealings,  there  was  a 
general  theme  mingling  with  them,  which  was  alike 
common  and  interesting  to  all;  so  that,  amidst  disputes 
about  freight,  tonnage,  demurrage,  and  such-like,  were 
heard  the  emphatic  sounds  of  'Deep,  damnable,  ac- 
cursed plot.'  'Bloody  Papist  villains.'  'The  King  in 
danger  —  the  gallows  too  good  for  them,'  and  so  forth. 

The  fermentation  excited  in  London  had  plainly 
reached  even  this  remote  seaport,  and  was  received  by 
the  inhabitants  with  the  peculiar  stormy  energy  which 
invests  men  in  their  situation  with  the  character  of  the 
winds  and  waves  with  which  they  are  chiefly  conversant. 
The  commercial  and  nautical  interests  of  England  were 
indeed  particularly  anti-Catholic;  although  it  is  not, 
perhaps,  easy  to  give  any  distinct  reason  why  they 
should  be  so,  since  theological  disputes  in  general  could 
scarce  be  considered  as  interesting  to  them.  But  zeal, 
amongst  the  lower  orders  at  least,  is  often  in  an  inverse 
ratio  to  knowledge;  and  sailors  were  not  probably  the 
less  earnest  and  devoted  Protestants  that  they  did  not 
understand  the  controversy  between  the  churches.  As 
for  the  merchants,  they  were  almost  necessarily  inimical 
to  the  gentry  of  Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  many  of 
whom  still  retained  the  faith  of  Rome,  which  was  ren- 
dered ten  times  more  odious  to  the  men  of  commerce, 
as  the  badge  of  their  haughty  aristocratic  neighbours. 

From  the  Httle  which  Peveril  heard  of  the  sentiments 
of  the  people  of  Liverpool,  he  imagined  he  should  act 

325 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

most  prudently  in  leaving  the  place  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  before  any  suspicion  should  arise  of  his  having  any 
connexion  with  the  party  -which  appeared  to  have 
become  so  obnoxious. 

In  order  to  accomplish  his  journey,  it  was  first  neces- 
sary that  he  should  purchase  a  horse;  and  for  this  pur- 
pose he  resolved  to  have  recourse  to  the  stables  of  a 
dealer  well  known  at  the  time,  and  who  dwelt  in  the 
outskirts  of  the  place;  and  having  obtained  directions 
to  his  dwelling,  he  went  thither  to  provide  himself. 

Joe  Bridlesley's  stables  exhibited  a  large  choice  of 
good  horses;  for  that  trade  was  in  former  days  more 
active  than  at  present.  It  was  an  ordinary  thing  for  a 
stranger  to  buy  a  horse  for  the  purpose  of  a  single  jour- 
ney, and  to  sell  him,  as  well  as  he  could,  when  he  had 
reached  the  point  of  his  destination;  and  hence  there 
was  a  constant  demand,  and  a  corresponding  supply; 
upon  both  of  which  Bridlesley,  and  those  of  his  trade, 
contrived,  doubtless,  to  make  handsome  profits. 

Julian,  who  was  no  despicable  hcrse-jockey,  selected 
for  his  purpose  a  strong,  well-made  horse,  about  sixteen 
hands  high,  and  had  him  led  into  the  yard,  to  see  whether 
his  paces  corresponded  with  his  appearance.  As  these 
also  gave  perfect  satisfaction  to  the  customer,  it  re- 
mained only  to  settle  the  price  with  Bridlesley,  who  of 
course  swore  his  customer  had  pitched  upon  the  best 
horse  ever  darkened  the  stable-door  since  he  had  dealt 
that  way ;  that  no  such  horses  were  to  be  had  nowadays, 
for  that  the  mares  were  dead  that  foaled  them;  and 
having  named  a  corresponding  price,  the  usual  haggling 
commenced  betwixt  the  seller  and  purchaser  for  adjust- 
ment of  what  the  French  dealers  call  le  prix  juste. 

326 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  reader,  if  he  be  at  all  acquainted  with  this  sort  of 
traffic,  well  knows  it  is  generally  a  keen  encounter  of 
wits,  and  attracts  the  notice  of  all  the  idlers  within  hear- 
ing, who  are  usually  very  ready  to  offer  their  opinions 
or  their  evidence.  Amongst  these,  upon  the  present 
occasion,  was  a  thin  man,  rather  less  than  the  ordinary 
size,  and  meanly  dressed ;  but  whose  interference  was  in 
a  confident  tone,  and  such  as  showed  himself  master 
of  the  subject  on  which  he  spoke.  The  price  of  the  horse 
being  settled  to  about  fifteen  pounds,  which  was  very 
high  for  the  period,  that  of  the  saddle  and  bridle  had 
next  to  be  adjusted,  and  the  thin,  mean-looking  person 
before  mentioned  found  nearly  as  much  to  say  on  this 
subject  as  on  the  other.  As  his  remarks  had  a  concihat- 
ing  and  obUging  tendency  towards  the  stranger,  Peveril 
concluded  he  was  one  of  those  idle  persons  who,  unable 
or  unwilling  to  supply  themselves  with  the  means  of 
indulgence  at  their  own  cost,  do  not  scruple  to  deserve 
them  at  the  hands  of  others  by  a  little  officious  com- 
plaisance; and  considering  that  he  might  acquire  some 
useful  information  from  such  a  person,  was  just  about 
to  offer  him  the  courtesy  of  a  morning  draught,  when  he 
observed  he  had  suddenly  left  the  yard.  He  had  scarce 
remarked  this  circumstance,  before  a  party  of  customers 
entered  the  place,  whose  haughty  assumption  of  im- 
portance claimed  the  instant  attention  of  Bridlesley 
and  all  his  militia  of  grooms  and  stable-boys. 

'Three  good  horses,'  said  the  leader  of  the  party,  a 
tall  bulky  man,  whose  breath  was  drawn  full  and  high, 
under  a  consciousness  of  fat  and  of  importance  —  '  three 
good  and  able-bodied  horses,  for  the  service  of  the 
Commons  of  England.' 

327 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Bridlesley  said  he  had  some  horses  which  might  serve 
the  Speaker  himself  at  need;  but  that,  to  speak  Christian 
truth,  he  had  just  sold  the  best  in  his  stable  to  that 
gentleman  present,  who,  doubtless,  would  give  up  the 
bargain  if  the  horse  was  needed  for  the  service  of  the 
state. 

'You  speak  well,  friend,'  said  the  important  person- 
age; and  advancing  to  Julian,  demanded,  in  a  very- 
haughty  tone,  the  surrender  of  the  purchase  which  he 
had  just  made. 

Peveril,  with  some  difl5culty,  subdued  the  strong 
desire  which  he  felt  to  return  a  round  refusal  to  so  un- 
reasonable a  request,  but,  fortunately,  recollecting  that 
the  situation  in  which  he  at  present  stood  required,  on 
his  part,  much  circumspection,  he  repHed  simply  that, 
upon  showing  him  any  warrant  to  seize  upon  horses  for 
the  public  service,  he  must  of  course  submit  to  resign 
his  purchase. 

The  man,  with  an  air  of  extreme  dignity,  pulled  from 
his  pocket,  and  thrust  into  Peveril's  hands,  a  warrant 
subscribed  by  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
empowering  Charles  Topham,  their  officer  of  the  Black 
Rod,  to  pursue  and  seize  upon  the  persons  of  certain 
individuals  named  in  the  warrant;  and  of  all  other  per- 
sons who  are,  or  should  be,  accused  by  competent  wit- 
nesses of  being  accessory  to,  or  favourers  of,  the  hellish 
and  damnable  Popish  Plot  at  present  carried  on  within 
the  bowels  of  the  kingdom;  and  charging  all  men,  as 
they  loved  their  allegiance,  to  render  the  said  Charles 
Topham  their  readiest  and  most  effective  assistance,  in 
execution  of  the  duty  entrusted  to  his  care. 

On  perusing  a  document  of  such  weighty  import, 

328 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Julian  had  no  hesitation  to  give  up  his  horse  to  this 
formidable  functionary,  whom  somebody  compared  to 
a  lion,  which,  as  the  House  of  Commons  was  pleased  to 
maintain  such  an  animal,  they  were  under  the  neces- 
sity of  providing  for  by  frequent  commitments;  until 
'Take  him,  Topham,'  became  a  proverb,  and  a  formid- 
able one,  in  the  mouth  of  the  pubHc. 

The  acquiescence  of  Peveril  procured  him  some  grace 
in  the  sight  of  the  emissary,  who,  before  selecting  two 
horses  for  his  attendants,  gave  permission  to  the  stranger 
to  purchase  a  grey  horse,  fnuch  inferior  indeed  to  that 
which  he  had  resigned,  both  in  form  and  in  action,  but 
very  little  lower  in  price;  as  Mr.  Bridlesley,  immedi- 
ately on  learning  the  demand  for  horses  upon  the  part 
of  the  Commons  of  England,  had  passed  a  private 
resolution  in  his  own  mind,  augmenting  the  price  of  his 
whole  stud  by  an  imposition  of  at  least  twenty  per  cent 
ad  valorem. 

Peveril  adjusted  and  paid  the  price  with  much  less 
argument  than  on  the  former  occasion;  for,  to  be  plain 
with  the  reader,  he  had  noticed  in  the  warrant  of  Mr. 
Topham  the  name  of  his  father.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of 
Martindale  Castle,  engrossed  at  full  length,  as  one  of 
those  subjected  to  arrest  by  that  officer. 

When  aware  of  this  material  fact,  it  became  Julian's 
business  to  leave  Liverpool  directly  and  carry  the  alarm 
to  Derbyshire,  if,  indeed,  Mr.  Topham  had  not  already 
executed  his  charge  in  that  country,  which  he  thought 
unlikely,  as  it  was  probable  they  would  commence  by 
securing  those  who  lived  nearest  to  the  seaports.  A 
word  or  two  which  he  overheard  strengthened  his  hopes. 

'And  hark  ye,  friend,'  said  Mr.  Topham,  *you  will 

329 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

have  the  horses  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Shortell,  the  mercer, 
in  two  hours,  as  we  shall  refresh  ourselves  there  with  a 
cool  tankard,  and  learn  what  folks  live  in  the  neighbour- 
hood that  may  be  concerned  in  my  way.  And  you  will 
please  to  have  that  saddle  padded,  for  I  am  told  the 
Derbyshire  roads  are  rough.  And  you,  Captain  Danger- 
field,  and  Master  Everett,  you  must  put  on  your  Pro- 
testant spectacles,  and  show  me  where  there  is  the 
shadow  of  a  priest  or  of  a  priest's  favourer;  for  I  am 
come  down  with  a  broom  in  my  cap  to  sweep  this  north 
country  of  such-like  cattle.' 

One  of  the  persons  he  thus  addressed,  who  wore  the 
garb  of  a  broken-down  citizen,  only  answered,  *Ay, 
truly.  Master  Topham,  it  is  time  to  purge  the  garner.' 

The  other,  who  had  a  formidable  pair  of  whiskers,  a 
red  nose,  and  a  tarnished  laced  coat,  together  with  a 
hat  of  Pistol's  dimensions,  was  more  loquacious.  'I 
take  it  on  my  damnation,'  said  this  zealous  Protestant 
witness,  '  that  I  will  discover  the  marks  of  the  beast 
on  every  one  of  them  betwixt  sixteen  and  seventy,  as 
plainly  as  if  they  had  crossed  themselves  with  ink 
instead  of  holy  water.  Since  we  have  a  king  wilting  to 
do  justice,  and  a  House  of  Commons  to  uphold  prose- 
cutions, why,  damn  me,  the  cause  must  not  stand  still 
for  lack  of  evidence.' 

'Stick  to  that,  noble  captain,' answered  the  officer; 
'but,  prithee,  reserve  thy  oaths  for  the  court  of  justice; 
it  is  but  sheer  waste  to  throw  them  away,  as  you  do,  in 
your  ordinary  conversation.' 

'Fear  you  nothing.  Master  Topham,'  answered  Dan- 
gerfield;  'it  is  right  to  keep  a  man's  gifts  in  use;  and  were 
I  altogether  to  renounce  oaths  in  my  private  discourse, 

330 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

how  should  I  know  how  to  use  one  when  I  needed  it? 
But  you  hear  me  use  none  of  your  Papist  abjurations. 
I  swear  not  by  the  mass,  or  before  George,  or  by  any- 
thing that  belongs  to  idolatry;  but  such  downright  oaths 
as  may  serve  a  poor  Protestant  gentleman,  who  would 
fain  serve  Heaven  and  the  king.' 

'Bravely  spoken,  most  noble  Festus,'  said  his  yoke- 
fellow. 'But  do  not  suppose  that,  although  I  am  not  in 
the  habit  of  garnishing  my  words  with  oaths  out  of 
season,  I  shall  be  wanting,  when  called  upon,  to  declare 
the  height  and  the  depth,  the  width  and  the  length, 
of  this  helHsh  plot  against  the  king  and  the  Protestant 
faith.' 

Dizzy,  and  almost  sick,  with  listening  to  the  undis- 
guised brutaHty  of  these  fellows,  Peveril,  having  with 
difi&culty  prevailed  on  Bridlesley  to  settle  his  purchase, 
at  length  led  forth  his  grey  steed ;  but  was  scarce  out  of 
the  yard,  when  he  heard  the  following  alarming  conver- 
sation pass,  of  which  he  seemed  himself  the  object:  — 

'Who  is  that  youth?'  said  the  slow  soft  voice  of  the 
more  precise  of  the  two  witnesses.  'Methinks  I  have 
seen  him  somewhere  before.  Is  he  from  these  parts? ' 

'Not  that  I  know  of,'  said  Bridlesley,  who,  like  all  the 
other  inhabitants  of  England  at  the  time,  answered  the 
interrogatories  of  these  fellows  with  the  deference  which 
is  paid  in  Spain  to  the  questions  of  an  inquisitor.  'A 
stranger  —  entirely  a  stranger  —  never  saw  him  before; 
a  wild  young  colt,  I  warrant  him;  and  knows  a  horse's 
mouth  as  well  as  I  do.' 

'  I  begin  to  bethink  me  I  saw  such  a  face  as  his  at  the 
Jesuits'  consult,  in  the  White  Horse  Tavern,'  answered 
Everett. 

331 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*And  I  think  I  recollect/  said  Captain  Dangerfield  — 

'Come  —  come,  master  and  captain,'  said  the  author- 
itative voice  of  Topham;  'we  will  have  none  of  your 
recollections  at  present.  We  all  know  what  these  are 
likely  to  end  in.  But  I  will  have  you  know,  you  are  not 
to  run  till  the  leash  is  slipped.  The  young  man  is  a  well- 
looking  lad,  and  gave  up  his  horse  handsomely  for  the 
service  of  the  House  of  Commons.  He  knows  how  to 
behave  himself  to  his  betters,  I  warrant  you;  and  I 
scarce  think  he  has  enough  in  his  purse  to  pay  the  fees.'^ 

This  speech  concluded  the  dialogue,  which  Peveril, 
finding  himself  so  much  concerned  in  the  issue,  thought 
it  best  to  hear  to  an  end.  Now,  when  it  ceased,  to  get 
out  of  the  town  unobserved,  and  take  the  nearest  way 
to  his  father's  castle,  seemed  his  wisest  plan.  He  had 
settled  his  reckoning  at  the  inn  and  brought  with  him 
to  Bridlesley's  the  small  portmanteau  which  contained 
his  few  necessaries,  so  that  he  had  no  occasion  to  return 
thither.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  ride  some  miles 
before  he  stopped,  even  for  the  purpose  of  feeding  his 
horse;  and  being  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the  coun- 
try, he  hoped  to  be  able  to  push  forward  to  Martindale 
Castle  sooner  than  the  worshipful  Master  Topham, 
whose  saddle  was,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  padded,  and 
who,  when  mounted,  would,  in  all  probabiHty,  ride  with 
the  precaution  of  those  who  require  such  security  against 
the  effects  of  a  hard  trot. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  feelings,  Julian  pushed 
for  Warrington,  a  place  with  which  he  was  well  ac- 
quainted; but,  without  halting  in  the  town,  he  crossed 
the  Mersey,  by  the  bridge  built  by  an  ancestor  of  his 

1  See  Note  15. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

friend  the  Earl  of  Derby,  and  continued  his  route  to- 
wards Dishley,  on  the  borders  of  Derbyshire.  He  might 
have  reached  this  latter  village  easily  had  his  horse  been 
fitter  for  a  forced  march;  but  in  the  course  of  the  journey 
he  had  occasion,  more  than  once,  to  curse  the  official 
dignity  of  the  person  who  had  robbed  him  of  his  better 
steed,  while  taking  the  best  direction  he  could  through 
a  coimtry  with  which  he  was  only  generally  acquainted. 

At  length,  near  Altringham,  a  halt  became  unavoid- 
able; and  Peveril  had  only  to  look  for  some  quiet  and 
sequestered  place  of  refreshment.  This  presented  itself 
in  the  form  of  a  small  cluster  of  cottages,  the  best  of 
which  united  the  characters  of  an  alehouse  and  a  mill, 
where  the  sign  of  the  Cat  (the  landlord's  faithful  ally  in 
defence  of  his  meal-sacks),  booted  as  high  as  Grimalkin 
in  the  fairy  tale,  and  playing  on  the  fiddle  for  the  more 
grace,  announced  that  John  Whitecraft  united  the  two 
honest  occupations  of  landlord  and  miller;  and,  doubt- 
less, took  toll  from  the  public  in  both  capacities. 

Such  a  place  promised  a  traveller,  who  journeyed  in- 
cognito, safer,  if  not  better,  accommodation  than  he  was 
like  to  meet  with  in  more  frequented  inns;  and  at  the 
door  of  the  Cat  and  Fiddle  Julian  halted  accordingly. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

In  these  distracted  times,  when  each  man  dreads 
The  bloody  stratagems  of  busy  heads. 

Otway. 

At  the  door  of  the  Cat  and  Fiddle,  Julian  received  the 
usual  attention  paid  to  the  customers  of  an  inferior 
house  of  entertainment.  His  horse  was  carried  by  a 
ragged  lad,  who  acted  as  hostler,  into  a  paltry  stable; 
where,  however,  the  nag  was  tolerably  supplied  with  food 
and  Htter. 

Having  seen  the  animal  on  which  his  comfort,  per- 
haps his  safety,  depended  properly  provided  for,  Peveril 
entered  the  kitchen,  which  indeed  was  also  the  parlour 
and  hall  of  the  little  hostelry,  to  try  what  refreshment 
he  could  obtain  for  himself.  Much  to  his  satisfaction 
he  found  there  was  only  one  guest  in  the  house  besides 
himself;  but  he  was  less  pleased  when  he  found  that  he 
must  either  go  without  dinner  or  share  with  that  single 
guest  the  only  provisions  which  chanced  to  be  in  the 
house,  namely,  a  dish  of  trouts  and  eels,  which  their 
host,  the  miller,  had  brought  in  from  his  mill-stream. 

At  the  particular  request  of  Julian,  the  landlady  un- 
dertook to  add  a  substantial  dish  of  eggs  and  bacon, 
which  perhaps  she  would  not  have  undertaken  for, 
had  not  the  sharp  eye  of  Peveril  discovered  the  flitch 
hanging  in  its  smoky  retreat,  when,  as  its  presence  could 
not  be  denied,  the  hostess  was  compelled  to  bring  it 
forward  as  a  part  of  her  supplies. 

334 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

She  was  a  buxom  dame  about  thirty,  whose  comely 
and  cheerful  countenance  did  honour  to  the  choice  of  the 
jolly  miller,  her  loving  mate;  and  was  now  stationed 
under  the  shade  of  an  old-fashioned  huge  projecting 
chimney,  within  which  it  was  her  province  to  'work  i' 
the  fire,'  and  provide  for  the  wearied  wayfaring  man 
the  good  things  which  were  to  send  him  rejoicing  on  his 
course.  Although,  at  first,  the  honest  woman  seemed 
little  disposed  to  give  herself  much  additional  trouble 
on  Julian's  account,  yet  the  good  looks,  handsome  figure, 
and  easy  civility  of  her  new  guest  soon  bespoke  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  her  attention ;  and  while  busy  in  his  service, 
she  regarded  him,  from  time  to  time,  with  looks  where 
something  like  pity  mingled  with  complacency.  The 
rich  smoke  of  the  rasher,  and  the  eggs  with  which  it  was 
flanked,  already  spread  itself  through  the  apartment; 
and  the  hissing  of  these  savoury  viands  bore  chorus  to 
the  simmering  of  the  pan,  in  which  the  fish  were  under- 
going a  slower  decoction.  The  table  was  covered  with  a 
clean  huckaback  napkin,  and  all  was  in  preparation  for 
the  meal,  which  Julian  began  to  expect  with  a  good  deal 
of  impatience,  when  the  companion  who  was  destined 
to  share  it  with  him  entered  the  apartment. 

At  the  first  glance,  JuUan  recognised,  to  his  surprise, 
the  same  indifferently-dressed,  thin-looking  person  who, 
during  the  first  bargain  which  he  had  made  with  Brid- 
lesley,  had  officiously  interfered  with  his  advice  and 
opinion.  Displeased  at  having  the  company  of  any 
stranger  forced  upon  him,  Peveril  was  still  less  satisfied 
to  find  one  who  might  make  some  claim  of  acquaintance 
with  him,  however  slender,  since  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  stood  compelled  him  to  be  as  reserved  as  pos- 

335 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sible.  He  therefore  turned  his  back  upon  his  destined 
messmate,  and  pretended  to  amuse  himself  by  looking 
out  of  the  window,  determined  to  avoid  all  intercourse 
until  it  should  be  inevitably  forced  upon  him. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  other  stranger  went  straight 
up  to  the  landlady,  where  she  toiled  on  household  cares 
intent,  and  demanded  of  her  what  she  meant  by  prepar- 
ing bacon  and  eggs,  when  he  had  positively  charged  her 
to  get  nothing  ready  but  the  fish. 

The  good  woman,  important  as  every  cook  in  the  dis- 
charge of  her  duty,  deigned  not  for  some  time  so  much  as 
to  acknowledge  that  she  heard  the  reproof  of  her  guest; 
and  when  she  did  so,  it  was  only  to  repel  it  in  a  magis- 
terial and  authoritative  tone.  *If  he  did  not  like  bacon 
—  bacon  from  their  own  hutch,  well  fed  on  pease  and 
bran  —  if  he  did  not  like  bacon  and  eggs  —  new-laid 
eggs,  which  she  had  brought  in  from  the  hen-roost  with 
her  own  hands  —  why  so  put  case  —  it  was  the  worse 
for  his  honour  and  the  better  for  those  who  did.' 

'The  better  for  those  who  like  them!'  answered  the 
guest;  'that  is  as  much  as  to  say,  I  am  to  have  a  com- 
panion, good  woman.' 

'Do  not  "good  woman"  me,  sir,'  repUed  the  miller's 
wife,  'till  I  call  you  good  man;  and,  I  promise  you, 
many  would  scruple  to  do  that  to  one  who  does  not  love 
eggs  and  bacon  of  a  Friday.' 

'Nay,  my  good  lady,'  said  her  guest,  'do  not  fix  any 
misconstruction  upon  me.  I  daresay  the  eggs  and  bacon 
are  excellent ;  only,  they  are  rather  a  dish  too  heavy  for 
my  stomach.' 

'Ay,  or  your  conscience  perhaps,  sir,'  answered  the 
hostess.   'And  now,  I  bethink  me,  you  must  needs  have 

336 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

your  fish  fried  with  oil,  instead  of  the  good  drippings 
I  was  going  to  put  to  them.  I  would  I  could  spell  the 
meaning  of  all  this  now;  but  I  warrant  John  Bigstaff, 
the  constable,  could  conjure  something  out  of  it.' 

There  was  a  pause  here;  but  Julian,  somewhat 
alarmed  at  the  tone  which  the  conversation  assumed, 
became  interested  in  watching  the  dumb  show  which 
succeeded.  By  bringing  his  head  a  little  towards  the 
left,  but  without  turning  round  or  quitting  the  project- 
ing latticed  window  where  he  had  taken  his  station,  he 
could  observe  that  the  stranger,  secured,  as  he  seemed 
to  think  himself,  from  observation,  had  sidled  close  up 
to  the  landlady,  and,  as  he  conceived,  had  put  a  piece  of 
money  into  her  hand.  The  altered  tone  of  the  miller's 
moiety  corresponded  very  much  with  this  supposition. 

*Nay,  indeed,  and  forsooth,'  she  said,  *her  house  was 
Liberty  Hall;  and  so  should  every  publican's  be.  What 
was  it  to  her  what  gentlefolks  ate  or  drank,  providing 
they  paid  for  it  honestly?  There  were  many  honest  gen- 
tlemen whose  stomachs  could  not  abide  bacon,  grease, 
or  dripping,  especially  on  a  Friday;  and  what  was  that 
to  her,  or  any  one  in  her  line,  so  gentlefolks  paid  hon- 
estly for  the  trouble?  Only,  she  would  say  that  her 
bacon  and  eggs  could  not  be  mended  betwixt  this  and 
Liverpool;  and  that  she  would  live  and  die  upon.' 

*I  shall  hardly  dispute  it,'  said  the  stranger;  and  turn- 
ing towards  Juhan,  he  added,  *I  wish  this  gentleman, 
who  I  suppose  is  my  trencher-companion,  much  joy  of 
the  dainties  which  I  cannot  assist  him  in  consuming.' 

*I  assure  you,  sir,'  answered  Peveril,  who  now  felt 
himself  compelled  to  turn  about  and  reply  with  civility, 
*  that  it  was  with  difficulty  I  could  prevail  on  my  land- 

27  337 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lady  to  add  my  cover  to  yours,  though  she  seems  now 
such  a  zealot  for  the  consumption  of  eggs  and  bacon.' 

*I  am  zealous  for  nothing,'  said  the  landlady,  *save 
that  men  would  eat  their  victuals  and  pay  their  score; 
and  if  there  be  enough  in  one  dish  to  serve  two  guests, 
I  see  little  purpose  in  dressing  them  two ;  however,  they 
are  ready  now,  and  done  to  a  nicety.  Here,  Alice!  — 
Alice!' 

The  sound  of  that  well-known  name  made  Julian 
start;  but  the  Alice  who  replied  to  the  call  ill  resembled 
the  vision  which  his  imagination  connected  with  the 
accents,  being  a  dowdy,  slip-shod  wench,  the  drudge  of 
the  low  inn  which  afforded  him  shelter.  She  assisted  her 
mistress  in  putting  on  the  table  the  dishes  which  the 
latter  had  prepared;  and  a  foaming  jug  of  home-brewed 
ale,  being  placed  betwixt  them,  was  warranted  by  Dame 
Whitecraft  as  excellent;  'for,'  said  she,  *we  know  by 
practice  that  too  much  water  drowns  the  miller,  and  we 
spare  it  on  our  malt  as  we  would  in  our  mill-dam.' 

'I  drink  to  your  health  in  it,  dame,'  said  the  elder 
stranger;  'and  a  cup  of  thanks  for  these  excellent  fish; 
and  to  the  drowning  of  all  unkindness  between  us.' 

'I  thank  you,  sir,'  said  the  dame,  'and  wish  you  the 
like;  but  I  dare  not  pledge  you,  for  our  gaffer  says  the  ale 
is  brewed  too  strong  for  women ;  so  I  only  drink  a  glass 
of  canary  at  a  time  with  a  gossip  or  any  gentleman 
guest  that  is  so  minded.' 

*You  shall  drink  one  with  me  then,  dame,'  said  Pev- 
eril,  'so  you  will  let  me  have  a  flagon.' 

'That  you  shall,  sir,  and  as  good  as  ever  was  broached; 
but  I  must  to  the  mill,  to  get  the  key  from  the  good- 
man.' 

338 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

So  saying,  and  tucking  her  dean  gown  through  the 
pocketholes,  that  her  steps  might  be  the  more  alert  and 
her  dress  escape  dust,  off  she  tripped  to  the  mill,  which 
lay  close  adjoining. 

*A  dainty  dame,  and  dangerous,  is  the  miller's  wife,* 
said  the  stranger,  looking  at  Peveril.  *Is  not  that  old 
Chaucer's  phrase? ' 

*I  —  I  beheve  so,'  said  Peveril,  not  much  read  in 
Chaucer,  who  was  then  even  more  neglected  than  at 
present;  and  much  surprised  at  a  literary  quotation 
from  one  of  the  mean  appearance  exhibited  by  the  per- 
son before  him. 

*Yes,'  answered  the  stranger,  'I  see  that  you,  like 
other  young  gentlemen  of  the  time,  are  better  acquainted 
with  Cowley  and  Waller  than  with  the  "well  of  English 
undefiled."  I  cannot  help  differing.  There  are  touches 
of  nature  about  the  old  bard  of  Woodstock  that  to  me 
are  worth  all  the  turns  of  laborious  wit  in  Cowley,  and 
all  the  ornate  and  artificial  simpHcity  of  his  courtly  com- 
petitor. The  description,  for  instance,  of  his  country 
coquette  — 

Wincing  she  was,  as  is  a  wanton  colt, 
Sweet  as  a  flower,  and  upright  as  a  bolt. 

Then  again,  for  pathos,  where  will  you  mend  the  dying 
scene  of  Arcite? 

Alas,  my  heartis  queen!  alas,  my  wife! 
Giver  at  once,  and  ender  of  my  life. 
What  is  this  world  ?  What  axen  men  to  have? 
Now  with  his  love,  now  in  his  cold  grave 
Alone,  withouten  other  company. 

But  I  tire  you,  sir;  and  do  injustice  to  the  poet,  whom 
I  remember  but  by  halves.' 

339 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'On  the  contrary,  sir,'  replied  Peveril,  'you  make  him 
more  intelligible  to  me  in  your  recitation  than  I  have 
found  him  when  I  have  tried  to  peruse  him  myself,* 

*  You  were  only  frightened  by  the  antiquated  spelling 
and  "the  letters  black/"  said  his  companion.  'It  is 
many  a  scholar's  case,  who  mistakes  a  nut,  which  he 
could  crack  with  a  little  exertion,  for  a  bullet,  which  he 
must  needs  break  his  teeth  on ;  but  yours  are  better  em- 
ployed. Shall  I  offer  you  some  of  this  fish? ' 

'Not  so,  sir,'  replied  Juhan,  willing  to  show  himself  a 
man  of  reading  in  his  turn ;  '  I  hold  with  old  Caius,  and 
profess  to  fear  judgment,  to  fight  where  I  cannot  choose, 
and  to  eat  no  fish.' 

The  stranger  cast  a  startled  look  around  him  at  this 
observation,  which  Julian  had  thrown  out  on  purpose 
to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  quality  of  his  companion, 
whose  present  language  was  so  different  from  the  char- 
acter he  had  assumed  at  Bridlesley  's.  His  countenance, 
too,  although  the  features  were  of  an  ordinary,  not  to 
say  mean,  cast,  had  that  character  of  intelligence  which 
education  gives  to  the  most  homely  face;  and  his  man- 
ners were  so  easy  and  disembarrassed  as  plainly  showed 
a  complete  acquaintance  with  society,  as  well  as  the 
habit  of  mingling  with  it  in  the  higher  stages.  The  alarm 
which  he  had  evidently  shown  at  Peveril's  answer  was 
but  momentary;  for  he  almost  instantly  replied,  with  a 
smile,  'I  promise  you,  sir,  that  you  are  in  no  dangerous 
company;  for,  notwithstanding  my  fish  dinner,  I  am 
much  disposed  to  trifle  with  some  of  your  savoury  mess, 
if  you  will  indulge  me  so  far.' 

Peveril  accordingly  reinforced  the  stranger's  trencher 
with  what  remained  of  the  bacon  and  eggs,  and  saw  him 

340 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

swallow  a  mouthful  or  two  with  apparent  relish;  but 
presently  after,  he  began  to  dally  with  his  knife  and 
fork,  like  one  whose  appetite  was  satiated;  then  took  a 
long  draught  of  the  black-jack,  and  handed  his  platter 
to  the  large  mastiff  dog,  who,  attracted  by  the  smell  of 
the  dinner,  had  sat  down  before  him  for  some  time,  lick- 
ing his  chops,  and  following  with  his  eye  every  morsel 
which  the  guest  raised  to  his  head. 

'Here,  my  poor  fellow,'  said  he,  'thou  hast  had  no 
fish,  and  needest  this  supernumerary  trencher-load  more 
than  I  do.  I  cannot  withstand  thy  mute  supplication 
any  longer.' 

The  dog  answered  these  courtesies  by  a  civil  shake  of 
the  tail,  while  he  gobbled  up  what  was  assigned  him 
by  the  stranger's  benevolence,  in  the  greater  haste,  that 
he  heard  his  mistress's  voice  at  the  door. 

'Here  is  the  canary,  gentlemen,'  said  the  landlady; 
'and  the  goodman  has  set  off  the  mill,  to  come  to  wait 
on  you  himself.  He  always  does  so,  when  company 
drink  wine.' 

'That  he  may  come  in  for  the  host's,  that  is,  for  the 
lion's,  share,'  said  the  stranger,  looking  at  Peveril. 

'The  shot  is  mine,'  said  JuHan;  'and  if  mine  host  will 
share  it,  I  will  willingly  bestow  another  quart  on  him, 
and  on  you,  sir.  I  never  break  old  customs.' 

These  sounds  caught  the  ear  of  Gaffer  Whitecraft, 
who  had  entered  the  room  —  a  strapping  specimen  of 
his  robust  trade,  prepared  to  play  the  civil  or  the  surly 
host  as  his  company  should  be  acceptable  or  otherwise. 
At  Julian's  invitation,  he  doffed  his  dusty  bonnet, 
brushed  from  his  sleeve  the  looser  particles  of  his  pro- 
fessional dust,  and  sitting  down  on  the  end  of  a  bench, 

341 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

about  a  yard  from  the  table,  filled  a  glass  of  canary 
and  drank  to  his  guests,  and  'especially  to  this  noble 
gentleman,'  indicating  Peveril,  who  had  ordered  the 
canary. 

Julian  returned  the  courtesy  by  drinking  his  health, 
and  asking  what  news  were  about  in  the  country. 

'  Nought,  sir  —  I  hears  on  nought,  except  this  plot,  as 
they  call  it,  that  they  are  pursuing  the  Papishers  about; 
but  it  brings  water  to  my  mill,  as  the  saying  is.  Between 
expresses  hurrying  hither  and  thither,  and  guards  and 
prisoners  riding  to  and  again,  and  the  custom  of  the 
neighbours,  that  come  to  speak  over  the  news  of  an 
evening,  nightly  I  may  say,  instead  of  once  a  week, 
why  the  spigot  is  in  use,  gentlemen,  and  your  land 
thrives;  and  then  I  serving  as  constable,  and  being  a 
known  Protestant,  I  have  tapped,  I  may  venture  to  say, 
it  may  be  ten  stands  of  ale  extraordinary,  besides  a  rea- 
sonable sale  of  wine  for  a  country  corner.  Heaven  make 
us  thankful,  and  keep  all  good  Protestants  from  plot  and 
Popery!' 

'I  can  easily  conceive,  my  friend,'  said  Julian,  'that 
curiosity  is  a  passion  which  runs  naturally  to  the  ale- 
house; and  that  anger,  and  jealousy,  and  fear  are  all  of 
them  thirsty  passions,  and  great  consumers  of  home- 
brewed. But  I  am  a  perfect  stranger  in  these  parts,  and 
I  would  willingly  learn,  from  a  sensible  man  like  you, 
a  little  of  this  same  plot,  of  which  men  speak  so  much 
and  appear  to  know  so  little.' 

'Learn  a  little  of  it!  Why,  it  is  the  most  horrible  — 
the  most  damnable,  bloodthirsty  beast  of  a  plot  — 
But  hold  —  hold,  my  good  master;  I  hope,  in  the  first 
place,  you  beheve  there  is  a  plot?  for,  otherwise,  the 

342 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

justice  must  have  a  word  with  you,  so  sure  as  my  name 
is  John  Whitecraft.' 

'It  shall  not  need,'  said  Peveril;  'for  I  assure  you, 
mine  host,  I  believe  in  the  plot  as  freely  and  fully  as  a 
man  can  believe  in  anything  he  cannot  understand.' 

'God  forbid  that  anybody  should  pretend  to  under- 
stand it,'  said  the  imphcit  constable;  'for  his  worship  the 
justice  says  it  is  a  mile  beyond  him,  and  he  be  as  deep  as 
most  of  them.  But  men  may  believe  though  they  do  not 
understand;  and  that  is  what  the  Romanists  say  them- 
selves. But  this  I  am  sure  of,  it  makes  a  rare  stirring 
time  for  justices,  and  witnesses,  and  constables.  So 
here 's  to  your  health  again,  gentlemen,  in  a  cup  of  neat 
canary.' 

'Come  —  come,  John  Whitecraft,'  said  his  wife,  Mo 
not  you  demean  yourself  by  naming  witnesses  along 
with  justices  and  constables.  All  the  world  knows  how 
they  come  by  their  money.' 

'Ay,  but  all  the  world  knows  that  they  do  come  by  it, 
dame;  and  that  is  a  great  confort.  They  rustle  in  their 
canonical  silks,  and  swagger  in  their  buff  and  scarlet, 
who  but  they?  Ay  —  ay,  the  cursed  fox  thrives  —  and 
not  so  cursed  neither.  Is  there  not  Dr.  Titus  Gates,  the 
saviour  of  the  nation  —  does  he  not  live  at  Whitehall,  and 
eat  off  plate,  and  have  a  pension  of  thousands  a  year,  for 
what  I  know?  and  is  he  not  to  be  Bishop  of  Litchfield  so 
soon  as  Dr.  Doddrum  dies? ' 

'Then  I  hope  Dr.  Doddrum's  reverence  will  live  these 
twenty  years;  and  I  daresay  I  am  the  first  that  ever 
wished  such  a  wish,'  said  the  hostess.  'I  do  not  under- 
stand these  doings,  not  I;  and  if  a  hundred  Jesuits  came 
to  hold  a  consult  at  my  house,  as  they  did  at  the  White 

343 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Horse  Tavern,  I  should  think  it  quite  out  of  the  Hne  of 
business  to  bear  witness  against  them,  provided  they 
drank  well  and  paid  their  score.' 

'Very  true,  dame,'  said  her  elder  guest;  'that  is  what 
I  call  keeping  a  good  publican  conscience;  and  so  I  will 
pay  score  presently,  and  be  jogging  on  my  way.' 

Peveril,  on  his  part,  also  demanded  a  reckoning,  and 
discharged  it  so  liberally  that  the  miller  flourished  his 
hat  as  he  bowed,  and  the  hostess  curtsied  down  to  the 
ground. 

The  horses  of  both  guests  were  brought  forth;  and 
they  moimted,  in  order  to  depart  in  company.  The  host 
and  hostess  stood  in  the  doorway  to  see  them  depart. 
The  landlord  proffered  a  stirrup-cup  to  the  elder  guest, 
while  the  landlady  offered  Peveril  a  glass  from  her  own 
peculiar  bottle.  For  this  purpose,  she  mounted  on  the 
horse-block,  with  flask  and  glass  in  hand ;  so  that  it  was 
easy  for  the  departing  guest,  although  on  horseback, 
to  return  the  courtesy  in  the  most  approved  manner, 
namely,  by  throwing  his  arm  over  his  landlady's  shoul- 
der and  saluting  her  at  parting. 

Dame  Whitecraft  could  not  decline  this  familiarity; 
for  there  is  no  room  for  traversing  upon  a  horse-block, 
and  the  hands  which  might  have  served  her  for  resist- 
ance were  occupied  with  glass  and  bottle  —  matters  too 
precious  to  be  thrown  away  in  such  a  struggle.  Appar- 
ently, however,  she  had  something  else  in  her  head;  for, 
as,  after  a  brief  affectation  of  reluctance,  she  permitted 
Peveril's  face  to  approach  hers,  she  whispered  in  his  ear, 
'Beware  of  trepans!'  an  awful  intimation,  which,  in. 
those  days  of  distrust,  suspicion,  and  treachery,  was  as 
effectual  in  interdicting  free  and  social  intercourse  as  the 

344 


PEVEREL  OF  THE  PEAK 

advertisement  of  'man-traps  and  spring-guns'  to  pro- 
tect an  orchard.  Pressing  her  hand,  in  intimation  that 
he  comprehended  her  hint,  she  shook  his  warmly  in  re- 
turn, and  bade  God  speed  him.  There  was  a  cloud  on 
John  Whitecraft's  brow;  nor  did  his  final  farewell  soimd 
half  so  cordial  as  that  which  had  been  spoken  within 
doors.  But  then  Peveril  reflected  that  the  same  guest 
is  not  always  equally  acceptable  to  landlord  and  land- 
lady; and  unconscious  of  having  done  anything  to  excite 
the  miller's  displeasure,  he  pursued  his  journey  without 
thinking  further  of  the  matter. 

Julian  was  a  Uttle  surprised,  and  not  altogether 
pleased,  to  find  that  his  new  acquaintance  held  the  same 
road  with  him.  He  had  many  reasons  for  wishing  to 
travel  alone;  and  the  hostess's  caution  still  rung  in  his 
ears.  If  this  man,  possessed  of  so  much  shrewdness  as 
his  countenance  and  conversation  intimated,  versatile, 
as  he  had  occasion  to  remark,  and  disguised  beneath  his 
condition,  should  prove,  as  was  likely,  to  be  a  concealed 
Jesuit  or  seminary  priest,  travelling  upon  their  great 
task  of  the  conversion  of  England,  and  rooting  out  of 
the  Northern  heresy  —  a  more  dangerous  companion, 
for  a  person  in  his  own  circumstances,  could  hardly  be 
imagined,  since  keeping  society  with  him  might  seem  to 
authorise  whatever  reports  had  been  spread  concerning 
the  attachment  of  his  family  to  the  Catholic  cause.  At 
the  same  time,  it  was  very  difficult,  without  actual  rude- 
ness, to  shake  off  the  company  of  one  who  seemed  de- 
termined, whether  spoken  to  or  not,  to  remain  alongside 
of  him. 

Peveril  tried  the  experiment  of  riding  slow;  but  his 
companion,  determined  not  to  drop  him,  slackened  his 

345 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pace  so  as  to  keep  close  by  him.  Julian  then  spurred  his 
horse  to  a  full  trot;  and  was  soon  satisfied  that  the 
stranger,  notwithstanding  the  meanness  of  his  appear- 
ance, was  so  much  better  mounted  than  himself  as  to 
render  vain  any  thoughts  of  out-riding  him.  He  pulled 
up  his  horse  to  a  more  reasonable  pace,  therefore,  in  a 
sort  of  despair.  Upon  his  doing  so,  his  companion,  who 
had  been  hitherto  silent,  observed,  that  Peveril  was  not 
so  well  qualified  to  try  speed  upon  the  road  as  he  would 
have  been  had  he  abode  by  his  first  bargain  of  horse- 
flesh that  morning. 

Peveril  assented  drily,  but  observed,  that  the  animal 
would  serve  his  immediate  purpose,  though  he  feared 
it  would  render  him  indifferent  company  for  a  person 
better  mounted. 

'By  no  means,'  answered  his  civil  companion;  *I  am 
one  of  those  who  have  travelled  so  much  as  to  be  accus- 
tomed to  make  my  journey  at  any  rate  of  motion  which 
may  be  most  agreeable  to  my  company.' 

Peveril  made  no  reply  to  this  polite  intimation,  being 
too  sincere  to  tender  the  thanks  which,  in  courtesy,  were 
the  proper  answer.  A  second  pause  ensued,  which  was 
broken  by  Julian  asking  the  stranger  whether  their  roads 
were  likely  to  lie  long  together  in  the  same  direction. 

'I  cannot  tell,'  said  the  stranger,  smiling,  'unless  I 
knew  which  way  you  were  travelling.' 

*  I  am  uncertain  how  far  I  shall  go  to-night,'  said  Juhan, 
willingly  misunderstanding  the  purport  of  the  reply. 

'And  so  am  I,'  rephed  the  stranger;  'but  though  my 
horse  goes  better  than  yours,  I  think  it  will  be  wise  to 
spare  him ;  and  in  case  our  road  continues  to  lie  the  same 
way,  we  are  likely  to  sup,  as  we  have  dined,  together.* 

346 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Julian  made  no  answer  whatever  to  this  round  intima- 
tion, but  continued  to  ride  on,  turning,  in  his  own  mind, 
whether  it  would  not  be  wisest  to  come  to  a  distinct  un- 
derstanding with  his  pertinacious  attendant,  and  to  ex- 
plain, in  so  many  words,  that  it  was  his  pleasure  to 
travel  alone.  But,  besides  that  the  sort  of  acquaintance 
which  they  had  formed  during  dinner  rendered  him  un- 
willing to  be  directly  uncivil  towards  a  person  of  gen- 
tlemanlike manners,  he  had  also  to  consider  that  he 
might  very  possibly  be  mistaken  in  this  man's  character 
and  purpose;  in  which  case,  the  cynically  refusing  the 
society  of  a  sound  Protestant  would  afford  as  pregnant 
matter  of  suspicion  as  travelling  in  company  with  a 
disguised  Jesuit. 

After  brief  reflection,  therefore,  he  resolved  to  endure 
the  encumbrance  of  the  stranger's  society  until  a  fair 
opportunity  should  occur  to  rid  himself  of  it;  and,  in  the 
meantime,  to  act  with  as  much  caution  as  he  possibly 
could  in  any  communication  that  might  take  place  be- 
tween them,  for  Dame  Whitecraft's  parting  caution  still 
rang  anxiously  in  his  ears,  and  the  consequences  of  his 
own  arrest  upon  suspicion  must  deprive  him  of  every 
opportunity  of  serving  his  father,  or  the  countess,  or 
Major  Bridgenorth,  upon  whose  interest,  also,  he  had 
promised  himself  to  keep  an  eye. 

While  he  revolved  these  things  in  his  mind,  they  had 
journeyed  several  miles  without  speaking;  and  now  en- 
tered upon  a  more  waste  country  and  worse  roads  than 
they  had  hitherto  found,  being,  in  fact,  approaching 
the  more  hilly  district  of  Derbyshire.  In  travelling  on 
a  very  stony  and  uneven  lane,  Julian's  horse  repeatedly 
stumbled ;  and,  had  he  not  been  supported  by  the  rider's 

347 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

judicious  use  of  the  bridle,  must  at  length  certainly  have 
fallen  under  him. 

'These  are  times  which  crave  wary  riding,  sir,'  said 
his  companion ; '  and  by  your  seat  in  the  saddle,  and  your 
hand  on  the  rein,  you  seem  to  understand  it  to  be  so.' 

'I  have  been  long  a  horseman,  sir,'  answered  Peveril. 

'And  long  a  traveller,  too,  I  should  suppose;  since,  by 
the  great  caution  you  observe,  you  seem  to  think,  the 
human  tongue  requires  a  curb,  as  well  as  the  horse's 
jaws.' 

'Wiser  men  than  I  have  been  of  opinion,'  answered 
Peveril,  'that  it  were  a  part  of  prudence  to  be  silent  when 
men  have  little  or  nothing  to  say.' 

'I  cannot  approve  of  their  opinion,'  answered  the 
stranger.  'All  knowledge  is  gained  by  communication, 
either  with  the  dead,  through  books,  or,  more  pleasingly, 
through  the  conversation  of  the  living.  The  deaf  and 
dumb,  alone,  are  excluded  from  improvement;  and  surely 
their  situation  is  not  so  enviable  that  we  should  imitate 
them.' 

At  this  illustration,  which  wakened  a  startling  echo 
in  Peveril's  bosom,  the  young  man  looked  hard  at  his 
companion;  but  in  the  composed  countenance  and  calm 
blue  eye  he  read  no  consciousness  of  a  further  meaning 
than  the  words  immediately  and  directly  implied.  He 
paused  a  moment,  and  then  answered,  '  You  seem  to  be 
a  person,  sir,  of  shrewd  apprehension;  and  I  should  have 
thought  it  might  have  occurred  to  you  that,  in  the  pre- 
sent suspicious  times,  men  may,  without  censure,  avoid 
communication  with  strangers.  You  know  not  me; 
and  to  me  you  are  totally  unknown.  There  is  not  room 
for  much  discourse  between  us,   without  trespassing 

348 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

on  the  general  topics  of  the  day,  which  carry  in  them 
seeds  of  quarrel  between  friends,  much  more  betwixt 
strangers.  At  any  other  time,  the  society  of  an  intelli- 
gent companion  would  have  been  most  acceptable  upon 
my  solitary  ride ;  but  at  present  — ' 

*At  present!'  said  the  other,  interrupting  him,  'you 
are  like  the  old  Romans,  who  held  that  hostis  meant 
both  a  stranger  and  an  enemy.  I  will  therefore  be  no 
longer  a  stranger.  My  name  is  Ganlesse;  by  profession 
I  am  a  Roman  Catholic  priest.  I  am  travelling  here  in 
dread  of  my  Hf e ;  and  I  am  very  glad  to  have  you  for  a 
companion.' 

*I  thank  you  for  the  information  with  all  my  heart,* 
said  Peveril ;  '  and  to  avail  myself  of  it  to  the  uttermost, 
I  must  beg  of  you  to  ride  forward,  or  lag  behind,  or  take 
a  side-path,  at  your  own  pleasure;  for  as  I  am  no  Cath- 
olic, and  travel  upon  business  of  high  concernment,  I  am 
exposed  both  to  risk  and  delay,  and  even  to  danger,  by 
keeping  such  suspicious  company.  And  so.  Master  Gan- 
lesse, keep  your  own  pace,  and  I  will  keep  the  contrary; 
for  I  beg  leave  to  forbear  your  company.' 

As  Peveril  spoke  thus,  he  pulled  up  his  horse  and 
made  a  full  stop. 

The  stranger  burst  out  a-laughing.  'What!'  he  said, 
'you  forbear  my  company  for  a  trifle  of  danger?  St. 
Anthony!  how  the  warm  blood  of  the  Cavaliers  is  chilled 
in  the  young  men  of  the  present  day !  This  young  gal- 
lant, now,  has  a  father,  I  warrant,  who  has  endured  as 
many  adventures  for  hunted  priests  as  a  knight-errant 
for  distressed  damsels.' 

'This  raillery  avails  nothing,  sir,'  said  Peveril.  *I 
must  request  you  will  keep  your  own  way.' 

349 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'My  way  is  yours/  said  the  pertinacious  Master  Gan- 
lesse,  as  he  called  himself;  'and  we  will  both  travel  the 
safer  that  we  journey  in  company.  I  have  the  receipt  of 
fern-seed,  man,  and  walk  invisible.  Besides,  you  would 
not  have  me  quit  you  in  this  lane,  where  there  is  no  turn 
to  right  or  left? ' 

Peveril  moved  on,  desirous  to  avoid  open  violence;  for 
which  the  indifferent  tone  of  the  traveller,  indeed,  af- 
forded no  apt  pretext;  yet  highly  disliking  his  company, 
and  determined  to  take  the  first  opportunity  to  rid  him- 
self of  it. 

The  stranger  proceeded  at  the  same  pace  with  him, 
keeping  cautiously  on  his  bridle  hand,  as  if  to  secure  that 
advantage  in  case  of  a  struggle.  But  his  language  did 
not  intimate  the  least  apprehension.  '  You  do  me  wrong,' 
he  said  to  Peveril,  'and  you  equally  wrong  yourself. 
You  are  uncertain  where  to  lodge  to-night;  trust  to  my 
guidance.  Here  is  an  ancient  hall,  within  four  miles, 
with  an  old  knightly  pantaloon  for  its  lord,  an  all- 
beruffed  Dame  Barbara  for  the  lady  gay,  a  Jesuit  in  a 
butler's  habit  to  say  grace,  an  old  tale  of  Edgehill  and 
Worster  fights  to  relish  a  cold  venison  pasty  and  a  flask 
of  claret  mantled  with  cobwebs,  a  bed  for  you  in  the 
priest's  hiding-hole,  and,  for  aught  I  know,  pretty  Mis- 
tress Betty,  the  dairymaid,  to  make  it  ready.' 

'This  has  no  charms  for  me,  sir,'  said  Peveril,  who,  in 
spite  of  himself,  could  not  but  be  amused  with  the  ready 
sketch  which  the  stranger  gave  of  many  an  old  mansion 
in  Cheshire  and  Derbyshire,  where  the  owners  retained 
the  ancient  faith  of  Rome. 

'Well,  I  see  I  cannot  charm  you  in  this  way,'  con- 
tinued his  companion;  'I  must  strike  another  key.  I  am 

3SO 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

no  longer  Ganlesse,  the  seminary  priest,  but  (changing 
his  tone,  and  snuffling  in  the  nose)  Simon  Canter,  a  poor 
preacher  of  the  Word,  who  travels  this  way  to  call  sin- 
ners to  repentance,  and  to  strengthen,  and  to  edify,  and 
to  fructify,  among  the  scattered  remnant  who  hold  fast 
the  truth.     What  say  you  to  this,  sir? ' 

*I  admire  your  versa tiUty,  sir,  and  could  be  enter- 
tained with  it  at  another  time.  At  present,  sincerity 
is  more  in  request.' 

'  Sincerity ! '  said  the  stranger.  '  A  child's  whistle,  with 
but  two  notes  in  it — yea,  yea  and  nay,  nay.  Why,  man, 
the  very  Quakers  have  renounced  it,  and  have  got  in  its 
stead  a  gallant  recorder,  called  hypocrisy,  that  is  some- 
what hke  sincerity  in  form,  but  of  much  greater  com- 
pass, and  combines  the  whole  gamut.  Come,  be  ruled  — ■ 
be  a  disciple  of  Simon  Canter  for  the  evening,  and  we  will 
leave  the  old  tumble-down  castle  of  the  knight  aforesaid, 
on  the  left  hand,  for  a  new  brick-built  mansion,  erected 
by  an  eminent  salt-boiler  from  Namptwich,  who  expects 
the  said  Simon  to  make  a  strong  spiritual  pickle  for  the 
preservation  of  a  soul  somewhat  corrupted  by  the  evil 
communications  of  this  wicked  world.  What  say  you? 
He  has  two  daughters  —  brighter  eyes  never  beamed 
under  a  pinched  hood ;  and  for  myself,  I  think  there  is 
more  fire  in  those  who  live  only  to  love  and  to  devotion 
than  in  your  court  beauties,  whose  hearts  are  running 
on  twenty  follies  besides.  You  know  not  the  pleasure  of 
being  conscience-keeper  to  a  pretty  precisian,  who  in  one 
breath  repeats  her  foibles  and  in  the  next  confesses  her 
passion.  Perhaps,  though,  you  may  have  known  such  in 
your  day?  Come,  sir,  it  grows  too  dark  to  see  your 
blushes;  but  I  am  sure  they  are  burning  on  your  cheek.' 

351 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'You  take  great  freedom,  sir,'  said  Peveril,  as  they 
now  approached  the  end  of  the  lane,  where  it  opened  on 
a  broad  common ;  *  and  you  seem  rather  to  count  more  on 
my  forbearance  than  you  have  room  to  do  with  safety. 
We  are  now  nearly  free  of  the  lane  which  has  made  us 
companions  for  this  last  half -hour.  To  avoid  your  fur- 
ther company,  I  will  take  the  turn  to  the  left  upon  that 
common;  and  if  you  follow  me,  it  shall  be  at  your  peril. 
Observe,  I  am  well  armed;  and  you  will  fight  at  odds.' 

'Not  at  odds,' returned  the  provoking  stranger,  'while 
I  have  my  brown  jennet,  with  which  I  can  ride  round 
and  around  you  at  pleasure ;  and  this  text,  of  a  handful 
in  length  (showing  a  pistol  which  he  drew  from  his 
bosom),  which  discharges  very  convincing  doctrine  on 
the  pressure  of  a  forefinger,  and  is  apt  to  equalise  all 
odds,  as  you  call  them,  of  youth  and  strength.  Let 
there  be  no  strife  between  us,  however;  the  moor  lies 
before  us  —  choose  your  path  on  it;  I  take  the  other.' 

*I  wish  you  good-night,  sir,'  said  Peveril  to  the 
stranger.  '  I  ask  your  forgiveness,  if  I  have  misconstrued 
you  in  anything;  but  the  times  are  perilous,  and  a  man's 
life  may  depend  on  the  society  in  which  he  travels.' 

'True,'  said  the  stranger;  'but  in  your  case  the  danger 
is  already  undergone,  and  you  should  seek  to  counteract 
it.  You  have  travelled  in  my  company  long  enough  to 
devise  a  handsome  branch  of  the  Popish  Plot.  How  will 
you  look  when  you  see  come  forth,  in  comely  foho  form, 
"The  Narrative  of  Simon  Canter,  otherwise  called  Rich- 
ard Ganlesse,  concerning  the  Horrid  Popish  Conspiracy 
for  the  Murder  of  the  King  and  Massacre  of  all  Protest- 
ants, as  given  on  oath  to  the  Honourable  House  of  Com- 
mons; setting  forth  how  far  Julian  Peveril,  Younger,  of 

352 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Martindale  Castle,  is  concerned  in  carrying  on  the 


.1 


'How,  sir?  What  mean  you?'  said  Peveril,  much 
startled. 

'Nay,  sir,'  repHed  his  companion,  'do  not  interrupt 
my  title-page.  Now  that  Gates  and  Bedloe  have  drawn 
the  great  prizes,  the  subordinate  discoverers  get  little 
but  by  the  sale  of  their  "Narrative  " ;  and  Janeway,  New- 
man, Simmons,  and  every  book-seller  of  them  will  tell 
you  that  the  title  is  half  the  narrative.  Mine  shall  there- 
fore set  forth  the  various  schemes  you  have  communi- 
cated to  me,  of  landing  ten  thousand  soldiers  from  the 
Isle  of  Man  upon  the  coast  of  Lancashire ;  and  marching 
into  Wales,  to  join  the  ten  thousand  pilgrims  who  are  to 
be  shipped  from  Spain;  and  so  completing  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Protestant  religion,  and  of  the  devoted  city 
of  London.  Truly,  I  think  such  a  "Narrative,"  well 
spiced  with  a  few  horrors,  and  published  cum  privilegio 
Parliamenti,  might,  though  the  market  be  somewhat 
overstocked,  be  still  worth  some  twenty  or  thirty  pieces.' 

'You  seem  to  know  me,  sir,'  said  Peveril;  'and  if  so, 
I  think  I  may  fairly  ask  you  your  purpose  in  thus  bearing 
me  company,  and  the  meaning  of  all  this  rhapsody.  If 
it  be  mere  banter,  I  can  endure  it  within  proper  limit, 
although  it  is  uncivil  on  the  part  of  a  stranger.  If  you 
have  any  further  purpose,  speak  it  out;  I  am  not  to  be 
trifled  with.' 

'Good,  now,'  said  the  stranger,  laughing;  'into  what 

an  unprofitable  chafe  you  have  put  yourself !  An  Italian 

fuoruscito,  when  he  desires  a  parley  with  you,  takes  aim 

from  behind  a  wall  with  his  long  gun,  and  prefaces  his 

1  See  Note  i6. 

«7  353 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

conference  with  "Posso  Hrare.^'  So  does  your  man-of- 
war  fire  a  gun  across  the  bows  of  a  Hans-mogan  India- 
man,  just  to  bring  her  to;  and  so  do  I  show  Master  Julian 
Peveril  that,  if  I  were  one  of  the  honourable  society  of 
witnesses  and  informers,  with  whom  his  imagination  has 
associated  me  for  these  two  hours  past,  he  is  as  much 
within  my  danger  now  as  what  he  is  ever  likely  to  be.' 
Then  suddenly  changing  his  tone  to  serious,  which  was 
in  general  ironical,  he  added,  'Young  man,  when  the 
pestilence  is  diffused  through  the  air  of  a  city,  it  is  in 
vain  men  would  avoid  the  disease  by  seeking  solitude 
and  shunning  the  company  of  their  fellow-sufferers.' 

*In  what,  then,  consists  their  safety?'  said  Peveril, 
willing  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  drift  of  his  compan- 
ion's purpose. 

*In  following  the  counsels  of  wise  physicians';  such 
was  the  stranger's  answer. 

'And  as  such,'  said  Peveril,  'you  offer  me  your  ad- 
vice?' 

'Pardon  me,  young  man,'  said  the  stranger,  haughtily, 
*I  see  no  reason  I  should  do  so.  I  am  not,'  he  added,  in 
his  former  tone,  'your  fee'd  physician.  I  offer  no  advice; 
I  only  say  it  would  be  wise  that  you  sought  it.' 

'And  from  whom  or  where  can  I  obtain  it?'  said 
Peveril.  'I  wander  in  this  country  like  one  in  a  dream, 
so  much  a  few  months  have  changed  it.  Men  who 
formerly  occupied  themselves  with  their  own  affairs  are 
now  swallowed  up  in  matters  of  state  pohcy ;  and  those 
tremble  under  the  apprehension  of  some  strange  and 
sudden  convulsion  of  empire  who  were  formerly  only 
occupied  by  the  fear  of  going  to  bed  supperless.  And  to 
sum  up  the  matter,  I  meet  a  stranger,  apparently  well 

354 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

acquainted  with  my  name  and  concerns,  who  first  at- 
taches himself  to  me  whether  I  will  or  no,  and  then  re- 
fuses me  an  explanation  of  his  business,  while  he  menaces 
me  with  the  strangest  accusations.' 

'Had  I  meant  such  infamy,'  said  the  stranger,  'believe 
me,  I  had  not  given  you  the  thread  of  my  intrigue.  But 
be  wise,  and  come  on  with  me.  There  is  hard  by  a  small 
inn,  where,  if  you  can  take  a  stranger's  warrant  for  it, 
we  shall  sleep  in  perfect  security.' 

'Yet  you  yourself,'  said  Peveril,  'but  now  were  anx- 
ious to  avoid  observation ;  and  in  that  case,  how  can 
you  protect  me? ' 

'  Pshaw !  I  did  but  silence  that  tattling  landlady,  in  the 
way  in  which  such  people  are  most  readily  hushed ;  and 
for  Topham  and  his  brace  of  night-owls,  they  must  hawk 
at  other  and  lesser  game  than  I  should  prove.' 

Peveril  could  not  help  admiring  the  easy  and  confident 
indifference  with  which  the  stranger  seemed  to  assume 
a  superiority  to  all  the  circumstances  of  danger  around 
him ;  and  after  hastily  considering  the  matter  with  him- 
self, came  to  the  resolution  to  keep  company  with  him 
for  this  night,  at  least;  and  to  learn,  if  possible,  who  he 
really  was,  and  to  what  party  in  the  estate  he  was  at- 
tached. The  boldness  and  freedom  of  his  talk  seemed 
almost  inconsistent  with  his  following  the  perilous, 
though  at  that  time  the  gainful,  trade  of  an  informer.  No 
doubt,  such  persons  assumed  every  appearance  which 
could  insinuate  them  into  the  confidence  of  their  des- 
tined victims ;  but  Julian  thought  he  discovered  in  this 
man's  manner  a  wild  and  reckless  frankness,  which  he 
could  not  but  connect  with  the  idea  of  sincerity  in  the 
present  case.   He  therefore  answered,  after  a  moment's 

355 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

recollection,  'I  embrace  your  proposal,  sir;  although,  by 
doing  so,  I  am  reposing  a  sudden,  and  perhaps  an  un- 
wary, confidence.' 

'And  what  am  I,  then,  reposing  in  you?'  said  the 
stranger.   '  Is  not  our  confidence  mutual? ' 

*  No;  much  the  contrary.  I  know  nothing  of  you  what- 
ever ;  you  have  named  me ;  and,  knowing  me  to  be  Julian 
Peveril,  know  you  may  travel  with  me  in  perfect  secur- 
ity.' 

'  The  devil  I  do ! '  answered  his  companion.  '  I  travel 
in  the  same  security  as  with  a  lighted  petard,  which  I 
may  expect  to  explode  every  moment.  Are  you  not  the 
son  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  with  whose  name  Prelacy  and 
Popery  are  so  closely  allied,  that  no  old  woman  of  either 
sex  in  Derbyshire  concludes  her  prayer  without  a  peti- 
tion to  be  freed  from  all  three?  And  do  you  not  come 
from  the  Popish  Countess  of  Derby,  bringing,  for  aught 
I  know,  a  whole  army  of  Manxmen  in  your  pocket,  with 
full  complement  of  arms,  ammunition,  baggage,  and  a 
train  of  field  artillery? ' 

*  It  is  not  very  likely  I  should  be  so  poorly  mounted,' 
said  Julian,  laughing,  'if  I  had  such  a  weight  to  carry. 
But  lead  on,  sir.  I  see  I  must  wait  for  your  confidence 
till  you  think  proper  to  confer  it;  for  you  are  already  so 
well  acquainted  with  my  affairs,  that  I  have  nothing  to 
offer  you  in  exchange  for  it.' 

'Allans,  then,'  said  his  companion;  'give  your  horse 
the  spur,  and  raise  the  curb  rein,  lest  he  measure  the 
ground  with  his  nose,  instead  of  his  paces.  We  are  not 
now  more  than  a  furlong  or  two  from  the  place  of  enter- 
tainment.' 

They  mended  their  pace  accordingly,  and  soon  arrived 

356 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

at  the  small  solitary  inn  which  the  traveller  had  men- 
tioned. When  its  light  began  to  twinkle  before  them,  the 
stranger,  as  if  recollecting  something  he  had  forgotten, 
*By  the  way,  you  must  have  a  name  to  pass  by;  for  it 
may  be  ill  travelling  under  your  own,  as  the  fellow  who 
keeps  this  house  is  an  old  Cromwellian.  What  will  you 
call  yourself?  My  name  is  —  for  the  present  —  Gan- 
lesse.' 

'There  is  no  occasion  to  assume  a  name  at  all,'  an- 
swered Julian.  'I  do  not  incline  to  use  a  borrowed  one, 
especially  as  I  may  meet  with  some  one  who  knows  my 
own.' 

*I  will  call  you  Juhan,  then,'  said  Master  Ganlesse; 
'for  Peveril  will  smell,  in  the  nostrils  of  mine  host,  of 
idolatry,  conspiracy,  Smithfield  fagots,  fish  on  Fridays, 
the  murder  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  and  the  fire 
of  Purgatory.' 

As  he  spoke  thus,  they  alighted  under  the  great  broad- 
branched  oak-tree  that  served  to  canopy  the  ale-bench, 
which,  at  an  earlier  hour,  had  groaned  under  the  weight 
of  a  frequent  conclave  of  rustic  politicians.  Ganlesse,  as 
he  dismounted,  whistled  in  a  particularly  shrill  note,  and 
was  answered  from  within  the  house.  ^ 
*  See  Note  17. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

He  was  a  fellow  in  a  peasant's  garb; 

Yet  one  could  censure  you  a  woodcock's  carvingt 

Like  any  courtier  at  the  ordinary. 

The  Ordinary. 

The  person  who  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  little  inn 
to  receive  Ganlesse,  as  we  mentioned  in  our  last  chapter, 
sung  as  he  came  forward  this  scrap  of  an  old  ballad  — 

'Good  even  to  you,  Diccon; 
And  how  have  you  sped? 
Bring  you  the  bonny  bride 
To  banquet  and  bed? ' 

To  which  Ganlesse  answered,  in  the  same  tone  and 

tune  — 

'Content  thee,  kind  Robin; 

He  need  Httle  care, 
WTio  brings  home  a  fat  buck 

Instead  of  a  hare.' 

'You  have  missed  your  blow,  then?'  said  the  other, 
in  reply. 

*I  tell  you,  I  have  not,'  answered  Ganlesse;  'but  you 
will  think  of  nought  but  your  own  thriving  occupation. 
May  the  plague  that  belongs  to  it  stick  to  it,  though  it 
hath  been  the  making  of  thee,' 

'A  man  must  live,  Diccon  Ganlesse,'  said  the  other. 

'Well  —  well,'  said  Ganlesse,  'bid  my  friend  welcome, 
for  my  sake.  Hast  thou  got  any  supper?' 

'Reeking  like  a  sacrifice;  Chaubert  has  done  his  best. 
That  fellow  is  a  treasure !  give  him  a  farthing  candle,  and 

358 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

he  will  cook  a  good  supper  out  of  it.  Come  in,  sir.  My 
friend's  friend  is  welcome,  as  we  say  in  my  country.' 

*  We  must  have  our  horses  looked  to  first,'  said  Peveril, 
who  began  to  be  considerably  imcertain  about  the  char- 
acter of  his  companions;  'that  done,  I  am  for  you.' 

Ganlesse  gave  a  second  whistle;  a  groom  appeared,  who 
took  charge  of  both  their  horses,  and  they  themselves 
entered  the  inn. 

The  ordinary  room  of  a  poor  inn  seemed  to  have  un- 
dergone some  alterations,  to  render  it  fit  for  company 
of  a  higher  description.  There  were  a  beaufet,  a  couch, 
and  one  or  two  other  pieces  of  furniture,  of  a  style  incon- 
sistent with  the  appearance  of  the  place.  The  tablecloth, 
which  was  ready  laid,  was  of  the  finest  damask;  and  the 
spoons,  forks,  etc.,  were  of  silver.  Peveril  looked  at  this 
apparatus  with  some  surprise;  and  again  turning  his  eyes 
attentively  upon  his  travelling-companion  Ganlesse,  he 
could  not  help  discovering  (by  the  aid  of  imagination, 
perhaps)  that,  though  insignificant  in  person,  plain  in 
features,  and  dressed  like  one  in  indigence,  there  lurked 
still  about  his  person  and  manners  that  indefinable  ease 
of  manner  which  belongs  only  to  men  of  birth  and  qual- 
ity, or  to  those  who  are  in  the  constant  habit  of  frequent- 
ing the  best  company.  His  companion,  whom  he  called 
Will  Smith,  although  tall  and  rather  good-looking, 
besides  being  much  better  dressed,  had  not,  neverthe- 
less, exactly  the  same  ease  of  demeanour,  and  was 
obliged  to  make  up  for  the  want  by  an  additional 
proportion  of  assurance.  Who  these  two  persons  could 
be,  Peveril  could  not  attempt  even  to  form  a  guess. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  watch  their  manner 
and  conversation. 

359 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

After  speaking  a  moment  in  whispers,  Smith  said  to 
his  companion,  '  We  must  go  look  after  our  nags  for  ten 
minutes,  and  allow  Chaubert  to  do  his  office.' 

'Will  he  not  appear  and  minister  before  us,  then?' 
said  Ganlesse. 

'What,  he!  —  he  shift  a  trencher  —  he  hand  a  cup! 
No,  you  forget  whom  you  speak  of.  Such  an  order  were 
enough  to  make  him  fall  on  his  own  sword;  he  is  already 
on  the  borders  of  despair,  because  no  craw-fish  are  to  be 
had.' 

'Alack-a-day!'  replied  Ganlesse.  'Heaven  forbid  I 
should  add  to  such  a  calamity !  To  stable,  then,  and  see 
we  how  our  steeds  eat  their  provender,  while  ours  is  get- 
ting ready.' 

They  adjourned  to  the  stable  accordingly,  which, 
though  a  poor  one,  had  been  hastily  suppHed  with  what- 
ever was  necessary  for  the  accommodation  of  four  excel- 
lent horses ;  one  of  which,  that  from  which  Ganlesse  was 
just  dismounted,  the  groom  we  have  mentioned  was 
cleaning  and  dressing  by  the  light  of  a  huge  wax  candle. 

'I  am  still  so  far  Catholic,'  said  Ganlesse,  laughing,  as 
he  saw  that  Peveril  noticed  this  piece  of  extravagance. 
*My  horse  is  my  saint,  and  I  dedicate  a  candle  to  him.' 

'  Without  asking  so  great  a  favour  for  mine,  which  I  see 
standing  behind  yonder  old  hen-coop,'  repHed  Peveril, 
*  I  will  at  least  relieve  him  of  his  saddle  and  bridle.' 

'  Leave  him  to  the  lad  of  the  inn,'  said  Smith ; '  he  is  not 
worthy  any  other  person's  handling;  and  I  promise  you, 
if  you  slip  a  single  buckle,  you  will  so  flavour  of  that 
stable  duty  that  you  might  as  well  eat  roast-beef  as 
ragouts,  for  any  relish  you  will  have  of  them.' 

'I  love  roast-beef  as  well  as  ragouts  at  any  time,'  said 
360 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Peveril,  adjusting  himself  to  a  task  which  every  young 
man  should  know  how  to  perform  when  need  is ; '  and  my 
horse,  though  it  be  but  a  sorry  jade,  will  champ  better 
on  hay  and  com  than  on  an  iron  bit.' 

While  he  was  unsaddling  his  horse  and  shaking  down 
some  litter  for  the  poor  wearied  animal,  he  heard  Smith 
observe  to  Ganlesse  —  '  By  my  faith,  Dick,  thou  hast 
fallen  into  poor  Slender's  blunder:  missed  Anne  Page 
and  brought  us  a  great  lubberly  postmaster's  boy.' 

'Hush!  he  will  hear  thee,'  answered  Ganlesse;  'there 
are  reasons  for  all  things  —  it  is  well  as  it  is.  But,  pri- 
thee, tell  thy  fellow  to  help  the  youngster.' 

'What!'  replied  Smith,  'd'ye  think  I  am  mad?  Ask 
Tom  Beacon  —  Tom  of  Newmarket  —  Tom  of  ten 
thousand,  to  touch  such  a  four-legged  brute  as  that? 
Why,  he  would  turn  me  away  on  the  spot  —  discard  me, 
i'  faith.  It  was  all  he  would  do  to  take  in  hand  your  own, 
my  good  friend;  and  if  you  consider  him  not  the  better, 
you  are  hke  to  stand  groom  to  him  yourself  to-morrow.' 

'Well,  Will,'  answered  Ganlesse,  'I  will  say  that  for 
thee,  thou  hast  a  set  of  the  most  useless,  scoundrelly,  in- 
solent vermin  about  thee  that  ever  eat  up  a  poor  gentle- 
man's revenues.' 

'Useless!  I  deny  it,' replied  Smith.  ' Every  one  of  my 
fellows  does  something  or  other  so  exquisitely  that  it 
were  sin  to  make  him  do  anything  else;  it  is  your  jacks- 
of-all-trades  who  are  masters  of  none.  But  hark  to 
Chaubert's  signal !  The  coxcomb  is  twangling  it  on  the 
lute,  to  the  tune  of  Eveillez-vous,  belle  endormie.  Come, 
Master  What-d'ye-Call  (addressing  Peveril),  "get  ye 
some  water  and  wash  this  filthy  witness  from  your 
hand,"  as  Betterton  says  in  the  play;  for  Chaubert's 

361 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cookery  is  like  Friar  Bacon's  head  —  time  is  —  time 
was  —  time  will  soon  be  no  more.' 

So  saying,  and  scarce  allowing  Julian  time  to  dip 
his  hands  in  a  bucket  and  dry  them  on  a  horse-cloth, 
he  hurried  him  from  the  stable  back  to  the  supper- 
chamber. 

Here  aU  was  prepared  for  their  meal  with  an  epicurean 
delicacy  which  rather  belonged  to  the  saloon  of  a  palace 
than  the  cabin  in  which  it  was  displayed.  Four  dishes  of 
silver,  with  covers  of  the  same  metal,  smoked  on  the 
table;  and  three  seats  were  placed  for  the  company. 
Beside  the  lower  end  of  the  board  was  a  small  side-table, 
to  answer  the  purpose  of  what  is  now  called  a  dumb 
waiter;  on  which  several  flasks  reared  their  tall,  stately, 
and  swan-like  crests,  above  glasses  and  rummers.  Clean 
covers  were  also  placed  ■wdthin  reach ;  and  a  small  trav- 
elling-case of  morocco,  hooped  with  silver,  displayed  a 
nimiber  of  bottles,  containing  the  most  approved  sauces 
that  culinary  ingenuity  had  then  invented. 

Smith,  who  occupied  the  lower  seat,  and  seemed  to  act 
as  president  of  the  feast,  motioned  the  two  travellers  to 
take  their  places  and  begin.  'I  would  not  stay  a  grace- 
time,'  he  said,  'to  save  a  whole  nation  from  perdition. 
We  could  bring  no  chauffettes  with  any  convenience,  and 
even  Chaubert  is  nothing  unless  his  dishes  are  tasted  in 
the  very  moment  of  projection.  Come,  uncover  and  let 
us  see  what  he  has  done  for  us.  Hum !  —  ha!  —  ay  — 
squab  pigeons  —  wild-fowl  —  young  chickens  —  veni- 
son cutlets  —  and  a  space  in  the  centre,  wet,  alas !  by  a 
gentle  tear  from  Chaubert's  eye,  where  should  have  been 
the  soupe  aux  ecrivisses.  The  zeal  of  that  poor  fellow  is  ill 
repaid  by  his  paltry  ten  louis  per  month.' 

362 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'A  mere  trifle,'  said  Ganlesse;  'but,  like  yourself, 
Will,  he  serves  a  generous  master.' 

The  repast  now  commenced;  and  Julian,  though  he 
had  seen  his  young  friend  the  Earl  of  Derby  and  other 
gallants  affect  a  considerable  degree  of  interest  and  skill 
in  the  science  of  the  kitchen,  and  was  not  himself  either 
an  enemy  or  a  stranger  to  the  pleasures  of  a  good  table, 
found  that,  on  the  present  occasion,  he  was  a  mere 
novice.  Both  his  companions,  but  Smith  in  especial, 
seemed  to  consider  that  they  were  now  engaged  in  the 
only  true  and  real  business  of  Hfe,  and  weighed  all  its 
minutiae  with  a  proportional  degree  of  accuracy.  To 
carve  the  morsel  in  the  most  delicate  manner,  and  to 
apportion  the  proper  seasoning  with  the  accuracy  of  the 
chemist;  to  be  aware,  exactly,  of  the  order  in  which  one 
dish  should  succeed  another,  and  to  do  plentiful  justice 
to  all  —  was  a  minuteness  of  science  to  which  Julian  had 
hitherto  been  a  stranger.  Smith  accordingly  treated 
him  as  a  mere  novice  in  epicurism,  cautioning  him,  *to 
eat  his  soup  before  the  bouilli,  and  to  forget  the  Manx 
custom  of  bolting  the  boiled  meat  before  the  broth,  as  if 
Cutlar  MacCulloch  ^  and  all  his  whingers  were  at  the 
door.'  Peveril  took  the  hint  in  good  part,  and  the  enter- 
tainment proceeded  with  animation. 

At  length  Ganlesse  paused,  and  declared  the  supper 
exquisite.  'But,  my  friend  Smith,'  he  added,  'are  your 
wines  curious?  When  you  brought  all  that  trash  of 
plates  and  trumpery  into  Derbyshire,  I  hope  you  did  not 
leave  us  at  the  mercy  of  the  strong  ale  of  the  shire,  as 
thick  and  muddy  as  the  squires  who  drink  it? ' 

'  Did  I  not  know  that  you  were  to  meet  me,  Dick  Gan- 
1  See  Note  i8. 
363 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lesse? '  answered  their  host, '  and  can  you  suspect  me  of 
such  an  omission?  It  is  true,  you  must  make  cham- 
pagne and  claret  serve,  for  my  burgundy  would  not  bear 
travelling.  But  if  you  have  a  fancy  for  sherry  or  Vin  de 
Cahors,  I  have  a  notion  Chaubert  and  Tom  Beacon  have 
brought  some  for  their  own  drinking.' 

'Perhaps  the  gentlemen  would  not  care  to  impart,' 
said  Ganlesse. 

'O  fie!  anything  in  the  way  of  civility,'  repHed  Smith. 
'They  are,  in  truth,  the  best-natured  lads  aHve,  when 
treated  respectfully;  so  that  if  you  would  prefer  — ' 

'  By  no  means,'  said  Ganlesse  — '  a  glass  of  champagne 
will  serve  in  a  scarcity  of  better.' 

'The  cork  shall  start  obsequious  to  my  thumb,* 

said  Smith;  and  as  he  spoke,  he  untwisted  the  wire,  and 
the  cork  struck  the  roof  of  the  cabin.  Each  guest  took  a 
large  rummer  glass  of  the  sparkling  beverage,  which 
Peveril  had  judgment  and  experience  enough  to  pro- 
nounce exquisite. 

*Give  me  your  hand,  sir,'  said  Smith;  'it  is  the  first 
word  of  sense  you  have  spoken  this  evening.' 

'Wisdom,  sir,'  replied  Peveril,  'is  like  the  best  ware  in 
the  pedlar's  pack,  which  he  never  produces  till  he  knows 
his  customer.' 

'Sharp  as  mustard,'  returned  the  bon  vivant;  'but  be 
wise,  most  noble  pedlar,  and  take  another  rummer  of 
this  same  flask,  which  you  see  I  have  held  in  an  obUque 
position  for  your  service,  not  permitting  it  to  retrograde 
to  the  perpendicular.  Nay,  take  it  off  before  the  bubble 
bursts  on  the  rim  and  the  zest  is  gone.' 

'You  do  me  honour,  sir,'  said  Peveril,  taking  the 

364 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

second  glass.  *  I  wish  you  a  better  oflSce  than  that  of  my 
cup-bearer.' 

'  You  cannot  wish  Will  Smith  one  more  congenial  to 
his  nature,'  said  Ganlesse.  '  Others  have  a  selfish  delight 
in  the  objects  of  sense.  Will  thrives,  and  is  happy,  by 
imparting  them  to  his  friends.' 

'Better  help  men  to  pleasures  than  to  pains,  Master 
Ganlesse,'  answered  Smith,  somewhat  angrily. 

*Nay,  wrath  thee  not.  Will,'  said  Ganlesse;  'and  speak 
no  words  in  haste,  lest  you  may  have  cause  to  repent  at 
leisure.  Do  I  blame  thy  social  concern  for  the  pleasures 
of  others?  Why,  man,  thou  dost  therein  most  philosophi- 
cally multiply  thine  own.  A  man  has  but  one  throat,  and 
can  but  eat,  with  his  best  efforts,  some  five  or  six  times 
a  day;  but  thou  dinest  with  every  friend  that  cuts  up  a 
capon,  and  art  quafiing  wine  in  other  men's  gullets  from 
morning  to  night  —  et  sic  de  ccBteris.' 

'Friend  Ganlesse,'  returned  Smith,  'I  prithee  be- 
ware; thou  knowest  I  can  cut  gullets  as  well  as  tickle 
them.' 

'Ay,  Will,'  answered  Ganlesse,  carelessly;  'I  think  I 
have  seen  thee  wave  thy  whinyard  at  the  throat  of  a 
Hogan-mogan  —  a  Netherlandish  weasand,  which  ex- 
panded only  on  thy  natural  and  mortal  objects  of  aver- 
sion —  Dutch  cheese,  rye-bread,  pickled  herring,  onions, 
and  Geneva.' 

'For  pity's  sake,  forbear  the  description!'  said  Smith; 
'thy  words  overpower  the  perfumes,  and  flavour  the 
apartment  like  a  dish  of  salmagundi ! ' 

'But  for  an  epiglottis  like  mine,'  continued  Ganlesse, 
'down  which  the  most  delicate  morsels  are  washed  by 
such  claret  as  thou  art  now  pouring  out,  thou  couldst 

365 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

not,  in  thy  bitterest  mood,  wish  a  worse  fate  than 
to  be  necklaced  somewhat  tight  by  a  pair  of  white 
arms.' 

'By  a  tenpenny  cord,'  answered  Smith;  'but  not  till 
you  were  dead ;  that  thereafter  you  be  presently  embow- 
elled,  you  being  yet  alive;  that  your  head  be  then  severed 
from  your  body,  and  your  body  divided  into  quarters, 
to  be  disposed  of  at  his  Majesty's  pleasure.  How  like 
you  that,  Master  Richard  Ganlesse?' 

'E'en  as  you  like  the  thoughts  of  dining  on  bran-bread 
and  milk-porridge — an  extremity  which  you  trust  never 
to  be  reduced  to.  But  all  this  shall  not  prevent  me  from 
pledging  you  in  a  cup  of  sound  claret.' 

As  the  claret  circulated,  the  glee  of  the  company  in- 
creased; and  Smith,  placing  the  dishes  which  had  been 
made  use  of  upon  the  side-table,  stamped  with  his  foot 
on  the  floor,  and  the  table  sinking  down  a  trap,  again 
rose,  loaded  with  olives,  sliced  neat's  tongue,  caviare, 
and  other  provocatives  for  the  circulation  of  the  bottle. 

'Why,  Will,'  said  Ganlesse,  'thou  art  a  more  complete 
mechanist  than  I  suspected;  thou  hast  brought  thy 
scene-shifting  inventions  to  Derbyshire  in  marvellously 
short  time.' 

'A  rope  and  pulleys  can  be  easily  come  by,'  answered 
Will;  'and  with  a  saw  and  a  plane,  I  can  manage  that 
business  in  half  a  day.  I  love  that  knack  of  clean  and 
secret  conveyance;  thou  knowest  it  was  the  foundation 
of  my  fortunes.' 

'It  may  be  the  wreck  of  them  too.  Will,'  replied  his 
friend. 

'True,  Diccon,'  answered  Will;  'but  dum  vivimus, 
vivamus  —  that  is  my  motto ;  and  therewith  I  present 

366 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

you  a  brimmer  to  the  health  of  the  fair  lady  you  wot 
of.' 

'Let  it  come,  Will,'  replied  his  friend;  and  the  flask 
circulated  briskly  from  hand  to  hand. 

Julian  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  seem  a  check  on  their 
festivity,  as  he  hoped  in  its  progress  something  might 
occur  to  enable  him  to  judge  of  the  character  and  pur- 
poses of  his  companions.  But  he  watched  them  in  vain. 
Their  conversation  was  animated  and  lively,  and  often 
bore  reference  to  the  literature  of  the  period,  in  which 
the  elder  seemed  particularly  well  skilled.  They  also 
talked  freely  of  the  court,  and  of  that  numerous  class 
of  gallants  who  were  then  described  as  '  men  of  wit  and 
pleasure  about  town ' ;  and  to  which  it  seemed  probable 
they  themselves  appertained. 

At  length  the  universal  topic  of  the  Popish  Plot  was 
started,  upon  which  Ganlesse  and  Smith  seemed  to  en- 
tertain the  most  opposite  opinions.  Ganlesse,  if  he  did 
not  maintain  the  authority  of  Gates  in  its  utmost  extent, 
contended  that  at  least  it  was  confirmed  in  a  great  mea- 
sure by  the  murder  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  and 
the  letters  written  by  Coleman  to  the  confessor  of  the 
French  king.^ 

With  much  more  noise  and  less  power  of  reasoning, 
Will  Smith  hesitated  not  to  ridicule  and  run  down  the 
whole  discovery,  as  one  of  the  wildest  and  most  causeless 
alarms  which  had  ever  been  sounded  in  the  ears  of  a 
credulous  pubHc.  'I  shall  never  forget,'  he  said,  'Sir 
Godfrey's  most  original  funeral.  Two  bouncing  parsons, 
well  armed  with  sword  and  pistol,  mounted  the  pulpit 
to  secure  the  third  fellow  who  preached  from  being  mur- 
*  See  Note  19. 
367 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

dered  in  the  face  of  the  congregation.  Three  parsons  in 
one  pulpit  —  three  suns  in  one  hemisphere  —  no  wonder 
men  stood  aghast  at  such  a  prodigy.'^ 

'What  then,  Will,'  answered  his  companion,  'you  are 
one  of  those  who  think  the  good  knight  murdered  him- 
self, in  order  to  give  credit  to  the  Plot? ' 

*By  my  faith,  not  I,'  said  the  other;  'but  some  true 
blue  Protestant  might  do  the  job  for  him,  in  order  to 
give  the  thing  a  better  colour.  I  will  be  judged  by  our 
silent  friend  whether  that  be  not  the  most  feasible  solu- 
tion of  the  whole.' 

*I  pray  you,  pardon  me,  gentlemen,'  said  Julian;  'I 
am  but  just  landed  in  England,  and  am  a  stranger  to  the 
particular  circumstances  which  have  thrown  the  nation 
into  such  ferment.  It  would  be  the  highest  degree  of 
assurance  in  me  to  give  my  opinion  betwixt  gentlemen 
who  argue  the  matter  so  ably;  besides,  to  say  truth,  I 
confess  weariness;  your  wine  is  more  potent  than  I  ex- 
pected, or  I  have  drank  more  of  it  than  I  meant  to  do.' 

'Nay,  if  an  hour's  nap  will  refresh  you,'  said  the 
elder  of  the  strangers,  'make  no  ceremony  with  us. 
Your  bed  —  all  we  can  offer  as  such  —  is  that  old-fash- 
ioned Dutch-built  sofa,  as  the  last  new  phrase  calls  it. 
We  shall  be  early  stirrers  to-morrow  morning.' 

'And  that  we  may  be  so,'  said  Smith,  'I  propose  that 
we  do  sit  up  all  this  night.  I  hate  lying  rough,  and  de- 
test a  pallet-bed.  So  have  at  another  flask,  and  the  new- 
est lampoon  to  help  it  out  — 

Now  a  plague  of  their  votes 
Upon  Papists  and  plots, 
And  be  d — d  Doctor  Gates! 

Tol  de  rol.' 

'  See  Note  20. 

368 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Nay,  but  our  Puritanic  host/  said  Ganlesse. 

*  I  have  him  in  my  pocket,  man :  his  eyes,  ears,  nose, 
and  tongue,'  answered  his  boon  companion,  'are  all  in 
my  possession.' 

'In  that  case,  when  you  give  him  back  his  eyes  and 
nose,  I  pray  you  keep  his  ears  and  tongue,'  answered 
Ganlesse.  '  Seeing  and  smelling  are  organs  sufficient  for 
such  a  knave;  to  hear  and  tell  are  things  he  should  have 
no  manner  of  pretensions  to.' 

'I  grant  you  it  were  well  done,'  answered  Smith;  'but 
it  were  a  robbing  of  the  hangman  and  the  pillory;  and  I 
am  an  honest  fellow,  who  would  give  Dun^  and  the  devil 
his  due.   So, 

All  joy  to  great  Caesar, 
Long  life,  love,  and  pleasure; 
May  the  King  live  for  ever! 

'T  is  no  matter  for  us,  boys.' 

While  this  Bacchanalian  scene  proceeded,  Julian  had 
wrapt  himself  closely  in  his  cloak  and  stretched  himself 
on  the  couch  which  they  had  shown  to  him.  He  looked 
towards  the  table  he  had  left;  the  tapers  seemed  to  be- 
come hazy  and  dim  as  he  gazed;  he  heard  the  sound  of 
voices,  but  they  ceased  to  convey  any  impression  to  his 
understanding;  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  faster  asleep 
than  he  had  ever  been  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life. 

^  See  Note  21. 
S7 


APPENDICES,   NOTES,   AND 
GLOSSARY 


APPENDICES  TO   INTRODUCTION 


No.  I 

The  following  Notices  were  recommended  to  my  attention  in  the 
politest  manner  possible  by  John  Christian,  Esq.,  of  Milntown, 
in  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  Unrigg,  in  Cumberland,  Dempster  at 
present  of  the  Isle  of  Man.  This  gentleman  is  naturally  interested 
in  the  facts  which  are  stated,  as  representative  of  the  respectable 
family  of  Christian,  and  lineally  descended  from  William  Dhone. 
put  to  death  by  the  Countess  of  Derby.  I  can  be  no  way  inter- 
ested in  refusing  Mr.  Christian  this  justice,  and  willingly  lend  my 
aid  to  extend  the  exculpation  of  the  family, 

fflSTORICAL  NOTICES  OF  EDWARD  AND  WILLIAM 

CHRISTIAN, 

TWO  CHARACTERS  IN  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  venerable  Dr.  Dryasdust,  in  a  preparatory  dialogue,  apprises 
the  eidolon,  or  apparition,  of  the  Author,  that  he  stood  'much 
accused  for  adulterating  the  pure  sources  of  historical  knowledge '; 
and  is  answered  by  that  emanation  of  genius, '  that  he  has  done 
some  service  to  the  public  if  he  can  present  to  them  a  lively  ficti- 
tious picture,  for  which  the  original  anecdote  or  circumstance 
which  he  made  free  to  press  into  his  service  only  furnished  a  slight 
sketch;  that  by  introducing  to  the  busy  and  the  youthful 

Truths  severe  in  fairy  fiction  dress'd, 

and  by  creating  an  interest  in  lictitious  adventures  ascribed  to  a 
historical  period  and  characters,  the  reader  begins  next  to  be 
anxious  to  learn  what  the  facts  really  were,  and  how  far  the  novel- 
ist has  justly  represented  them.' 

The  adventures  ascribed  to  'historical  characters'  would,  how- 
ever, fail  in  their  moral  aim  if  fiction  were  placed  at  variance  with 
truth;  if  Hampden  or  Sydney,  for  example,  were  painted  as  swin- 
dlers or  Lady  Jane  Grey  or  Rachel  Russel  as  abandoned  women. 

'Odzooks!  must  one  swear  to  the  truth  of  a  song?'  although 

373 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

an  excellent  joke,  were  a  bad  palliation  in  such  a  case.  Fancy  may 
be  fairly  indulged  in  the  illustration,  but  not  in  the  perversion, 
of  fact;  and  if  the  fictitious  picture  should  have  no  general 
resemblance  to  the  original,  the  flourish  of 

Truths  severe  in  fairy  fiction  dress'd 

were  but  an  aggravation  of  the  wrong. 

The  family  of  Christian  is  indebted  to  this  splendid  luminary 
of  the  North  for  abundant  notoriety. 

The  William  Christian  represented  on  one  part  as  an  ungrateful 
traitor,  on  the  other  as  the  victim  of  a  judicial  murder,  and  his 
brother  (or  relative)  Edward,  one  of  the  suite  of  a  Duke  ^  of 
Buckingham,  were  so  far  real  historical  persons.  Whether  the 
talents  and  skill  of  Edward  in  imposing  on  Fenella  a  feigned 
silence  of  several  ye'ars  be  among  the  legitimate  or  supernatural 
wonders  of  this  fertile  genius,  his  fair  readers  do  not  seem  to  be 
agreed.  Whether  the  residue  of  the  canvass,  filled  up  with  a 
masterly  picture  of  the  most  consummate  hypocrite  and  satanic 
villain  ever  presented  to  the  imagination,  be  consistent  with  the 
historical  character  of  this  individual,  is  among  the  subjects  of 
research  to  which  the  novelist  has  given  a  direct  invitation  in  his 
prefatory  chapter. 

English  history  furnishes  few  materials  to  aid  the  investigation 
of  transactions  chiefly  confined  to  the  Isle  of  Man.  Circumstances 
led  me,  many  years  ago,  to  visit  this  ancient  Lilliput;  whether  as 
one  of  those  'smart  fellows  worth  talking  to,'  'in  consequence 
of  a  tumble  from  my  barouche,'  'as  a  ruined  miner,'  or  'as  a  dis- 
appointed speculator,'  is  of  no  material  import.  It  may  be  that 
temporary  embarrassment  drove  me  into  seclusion,  without  any  of 
the  irresistible  inducements  alluded  to;  and  want  of  employment, 
added  to  the  acquaintance  and  aid  of  a  zealous  local  antiquary, 
gradually  led  to  an  examination  of  all  accessible  authorities  on 
this  very  subject  among  others.  So  it  happened  that  I  had  not 
landed  many  hours  before  I  found  the  mournful  ditty  of  William 
Dhone  ('Brown'  or  'Fair-Haired  WUham,'  this  very  identical 
WUham  Christian)  twanged  through  the  demi-nasal,  demi-gut- 
tural  trumpet  of  the  carman,  and  warbled  by  the  landlady's 
pretty  daughter;  in  short,  making  as  great  a  figure  in  its  little 
sphere  as  did  once  the  more  important  ballad  of  Chevy  Chace  in  its 
wider  range;  the  burden  of  the  song  purporting  that  William 

•  Not  the  duke  described  in  Peveril,  but  the  companion  of  Charles  I.  in  his  Spanish 
tomance. 

374 


J 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

Dhone  was  the  mirror  of  virtue  and  patriotism,  and  that  envy, 
hatred,  and  malice,  and  all  uncharitableness,  operate  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  wisest  and  the  best. 

Themes  of  popular  feeling  naturally  attract  the  earUest  notice 
of  a  stranger;  and  I  found  the  story  of  this  individual,  though 
abundantly  garbled  and  discoloured  on  the  insular  records,  full  of 
circumstances  to  excite  the  deepest  interest,  but  which,  to  be 
rendered  intelligible,  must  be  approached  by  a  circuitous  route,  in 
which  neither  elfin  page  nor  maiden  fair  can  be  the  companion 
of  our  walk. 

The  loyal  and  celebrated  James  seventh  Earl  of  Derby  was  in- 
duced, by  the  circumstances  of  the  times,  to  fix  his  chief  residence 
in  the  Isle  of  Man  from  1643  to  1651.^  During  this  period  he 
composed,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  2  to  his  son  Charles  (Lord 
Strange),  an  historical  account  of  that  island,  with  a  statement 
of  his  own  proceedings  there,  interspersed  with  much  poUtical 
advice  for  the  guidance  of  his  successor,  full  of  acute  observation, 
and  evincing  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  works  of  Machia- 
velli,  which  it  appears,  by  a  quotation, ^  that  he  had  studied  in  a 
Latin  edition.  The  work,  although  formally  divided  into  chapters 
and  numbered  paragraphs,  is  professedly  desultory,^  and  furnishes 
few  means  of  determining  the  relative  dates  of  his  facts,  which 
must  accordingly  be  supplied  by  internal  evidence,  and  in  some 
cases  by  conjecture. 

He  appears  to  have  been  drawn  thither,  in  1643,  by  letters* 
intimating  the  danger  of  a  revolt:  the  'people  had  begun  the 
fashion  of  England  in  murmuring';  'assembled  in  a  tumultuous 
manner,  desiring  new  laws  .  .  .  they  would  have  no  bishops, 
pay  no  tithes  to  the  clergie  .  .  .  despised  authority,  rescued 
people  committed  by  the  governor,'  etc.  etc. 

'  His  countess  resided  at  Latham  House  (her  heroic  defence  of  which  is  well  known) 
until  1644  or  1645,  when  she  also  retired  to  the  Isle  of  Man.  A  contemporary  publica- 
tion, the  Mercurius  Aulicus,  by  John  Birkenhead,  says,  'The  countesse,  it  seems,  stole 
the  earl's  breeches,  when  he  fled  long  since  into  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  hath  in  his 
absence  played  the  man  at  Latham.'  This  insinuation  is  certainly  unjust;  but  the  earl 
seems  to  consider  some  explanation  necessary,  'why  he  left  the  land,  when  every  gallant 
spirit  had  engaged  himself  for  king  and  country.'  Danger  of  revolt  and  invasion  of  the 
island  constitute  the  substance  of  this  explanation.  There  is  reason,  however,  to  con- 
jecture that  he  had  been  disappointed  of  the  command  he  had  a  right  to  expect,  when 
he  brought  a  considerable  levy  to  join  the  King  at  York.  Any  explanation,  in  short, 
might  be  listened  to,  except  a  doubt  of  his  loyalty  and  ardent  military  spirit,  which 
were  above  all  impeachment. 

*  Published  in  Peck's  Desiderata  Curiosa,  in  1779. 

*  Peck,  p.  446  —  fortiter  calumniare,  aliquid  adhxrebit. 

*  Peck,  p.  446.  '  Loth  to  dwell  too  long  on  one  subject,'  '  skip  over  to  some  other  mat> 
ter.*  *  Peck,  p.  434. 

375 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

The  earl's  first  care  was  to  apply  himself  to  the  consideration 
of  these  insurrectionary  movements ;  and  as  he  found  some  inter- 
ruption to  his  proceedings  in  the  conduct  of  Edward  Christian, "- 
an  attempt  shall  be  made,  so  far  as  our  hmits  will  admit,  to  extract 
the  earl's  own  account  of  this  person. 

'I  was  newly  ^  got  acquainted  with  Captain  Christian,  whom  I 
perceived  to  have  abilities  enough  to  do  me  service.  ...  I  was 
told  he  had  made  a  good  fortune  in  the  Indies,  that  he  was  a 
Mankesman  born.  ...  He  is  excellent  good  companie,  as  rude 
as  a  sea  captain  should  be,  but  refined  as  one  that  had  civilised 
himself  half  a  year  at  court,  where  he  served  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham. .  .  .  While  he  governed  here  some  few  years  he  pleased  me 
very  well,  etc.  etc.  But  such  is  the  condition  of  man,  that  most 
will  have  some  fault  or  other  to  blurr  all  their  best  vertues;  and 
his  was  of  that  condition  which  is  reckoned  with  drunkenness, 
viz.,  coveteousness,  both  marked  with  age  to  increase  and  grow 
in  men.  .  .  .  When  a  prince  has  given  all,  and  the  favourite  can 
desire  no  more,  they  both  grow  weary  of  one  another.'  * 

An  account  of  the  earl's  successive  public  meetings,  short,  from 
the  limits  of  our  sketch,  is  extracted  in  a  note  *  from  the  headings 

1  For  a  history  of  this  family,  established  in  the  Isle  of  Man  so  early  as  1422,  see 
Hutchinson's  Rislory  oj  Cumberlatid,  vol.  m,  p.  146.  They  had  previously  been  estab- 
lished in  Wigtonshire. 

'  This  is  an  example  of  the  difficulty  of  arranging  the  relative  dates;  the  word  '  newly,' 
thus  employed  at  the  earliest  in  1643,  refers  to  1628,  the  date  of  the  appointment  of  E. 
Christian  to  be  governor  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  which  office  he  had  till  1635  (Sacheverell's 
Account  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  published  in  1702,  p.  100),  the  earl  being  then  Lord  Strange, 
but  apparently  taking  the  lead  in  public  business  during  his  father's  lifetime. 

3  Peck,  p.  444.  There  is  apparently  some  error  in  Hutchinson's  genealogy  of  the 
family  in  his  History  of  Cumberland :  ist  brother,  John,  born  1602;  2d,  died  young;  3d, 
William,  born  1608;  4th,  Edward,  Lieutenant-Governor  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  1629  (accord- 
ing to  Sacheverell,  p.  100,  1628).  This  Edward's  birth  cannot  be  placed  earlier  than 
1609,  and  he  could  not  well  have  made  a  fortune  in  the  Indies,  have  frequented  the  court 
of  Charles  I.,  and  be  selected  as  a  fit  person  to  be  a  governor,  at  the  age  of  nineteen 
or  twenty.  The  person  mentioned  in  the  text  was  obviously  of  mature  age;  and  Edward 
the  governor  appears  to  have  been  the  younger  brother  of  William  Christian,  a  branch 
of  the  same  family,  possessing  the  estate  of  Knockrushen,  near  Castle  Rushen,  who,  as 
well  as  Edward,  was  imprisoned  in  Peel  Castle  in  1643. 

♦  Peck,  p.  338,  el  seq.  'Chap.  viii.  The  earl  appoints  a  meeting  of  the  natives,  every 
man  to  give  in  his  grievances;  upon  which  some  think  to  outwit  him,  which  he  winks  at, 
being  not  ready  for  them,  therefore  cajoles  and  divides  them;  on  the  appointed  day  he 
appears  with  a  good  guard;  the  people  give  in  their  complaints  quietly  and  retire. 
Chap.  rx.  Another  meeting  appointed,  where  he  also  appears  with  a  good  guard.  Many 
busy  men  speak  only  Mankes,  which  a  more  designing  person  (probably  Captain  Chris- 
tian, a  late  governor)  would  hinder,  but  the  earl  forbids  it;  advice  about  it  appearing  in 
public;  the  Mankesmen  great  talkers  and  wranglers;  the  earl's  spies  get  in  with  them 
and  wheedle  them.  Chap  x.  The  night  before  the  meeting  the  earl  consults  with  his 
officers  what  to  answer;  but  tells  them  nothing  of  his  spies;  compares  both  reports,  and 
keeps  back  his  own  opinion;  sends  some  of  the  officers,  who  he  knew  v;ould  be  trouble- 
some, out  of  the  way,  about  other  matters;  the  (present)  governor  afresh  commended; 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

of  the  chapters  (apparently  composed  by  Peck).  In  the  last  of 
these  meetings  it  appears  that  Edward  Christian  attempted  at  its 
close  to  recapitulate  the  business  of  the  day.  'Asked  if  we  did 
not  agree  thus  and  thus,  mentioning  some  things  (says  the  earl) 
he  had  instructed  the  people  to  aske;  which,  happily,  they  had 
forgot.'  The  earl  accordingly  rose  in  wrath,  and,  after  a  short 
speech,  'bade  the  court  to  rise,  and  no  man  to  speak  more.' 
'Some,'  he  adds,  'were  committed  to  prison,  and  there  abided, 
until,  upon  submission  and  assurance  of  being  very  good  and 
quiet,  they  were  released,  and  others  .  .  .  were  put  into  their 
rooms.  ...  I  thought  fit  to  make  them  be  deeply  fined.  .  .  . 
Since  this  they  have  all  come  in  most  submisse  and  loving  man- 
ner.' ^  Pretty  efficient  means  of  producing  quiet,  if  the  despot 
be  strong  enough,  and  with  it  such  love  as  suits  a  despot's  fancy! 
Among  the  prisoners  were  Edward  Christian  and  his  brother 
William  of  Knockrushen;  the  latter  was  released  in  1644,  on 
giving  bond,  among  other  conditions,  not  to  depart  the  island 
without  license. 

Of  Edward,  the  earl  says,  'I  will  return  unto  Captain  Christian, 
whose  business  must  be  heard  next  week  (either  in  1644  or  early 
in  1645).  He  is  still  in  prison,  and  I  believe  many  wonder  thereat, 
as  savouring  of  injustice,  and  that  his  trial  should  be  deferred 
so  long.  .  .  .  Also  his  business  is  of  that  condition  that  it  con- 
cerns not  himself  alone.  ...  If  a  jurie  of  the  people  do  passe 
upon  him,  being  he  hath  so  cajoled  them  to  believe  he  suffers  for 
their  sakes,  it  is  likely  they  should  quit  him,  and  then  might  he 
laugh  at  us,  whom  I  had  rather  he  had  betrayed.  ...  I  remem- 
ber one  said  it  was  much  safer  to  take  men's  lives  than  their 
estates:  for  their  children  will  much  sooner  forget  the  death  of 
their  father  than  the  loss  of  their  patrimonie.'  ^  Edward  died  in 
custody  in  Peel  Castle  in  1650,^  after  an  imprisonment  of  between 
seven  and  eight  years;  and  so  far,  at  least,  no  ground  can  be  dis- 
covered for  that  gratitude  which  is  afterwards  said  to  have  been 
violated  by  this  family,  unless  indeed  we  transplant  ourselves  to 

what  counsellors  the  properest.  Chap.  xi.  The  earl's  carriage  to  the  people  at  his  first 
going  over;  his  carriage  at  the  meeting  to  modest  petitioners,  to  irapudtnt,  to  the  most 
confident,  and  to  the  most  dangerous,  viz.  them  who  stood  behind  and  prompted 
others.  All  things  being  agreed.  Captain  Christian  cunningly  begins  disturbance; 
the  earl's  reply  and  speech  to  the  people;  Christian  is  stroke  blank;  several  (people] 
committed  to  prison  and  fined,  which  quiets  them.' 

'  Peck,  p.  442.  2  Peck,  pp.  448,  449. 

'  Feltham 's  Towr,  p.  i6i,  places  this  event  (while  a  prisoner  in  Peel  Castle),  on  the 
authority  of  a  tombstone,  in  1660,  'John  Greenhalgh  being  governor.'  Now  John  Green- 
halgh  ceased  to  be  governor  in  1651;  the  date  is  probably  an  error  in  the  press  for  1650. 

377 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

those  countries  where  it  is  the  fashion  to  flog  a  public  officer  one 
day  and  replace  him  in  authority  the  next. 

The  insular  records  detail  with  minuteness  the  complaints  of 
the  people  relative  to  the  exactions  of  the  church,  and  their  ad- 
justment by  a  sort  of  pubhc  arbitration  in  October  1643.  But  it 
is  singular,  that  neither  in  these  records  nor  in  the  earl's  very 
studied  narrative  of  the  modes  of  discussion,  the  offences,  and  the 
punishments,  is  one  word  to  be  found  regarding  the  more  import- 
ant points  actually  at  issue  between  himself  and  the  people.  The 
fact,  however,  is  fully  developed,  as  if  by  accident,  in  one  of  the 
chapters  (xvi.)  of  this  very  desultory  but  sagacious  performance. 
'  There  comes  this  very  instant  an  occasion  to  me  to  acquaint  you 
with  a  special  matter,  which,  if  by  reason  of  these  troublesome  and 
dangerous  times,  I  cannot  bring  to  passe  my  intents  therein,  you 
may  in  your  better  leisure  consider  thereof,  and  make  some  use 
hereafter  of  my  present  labors,  in  the  matter  of  a  certain  holding 
in  this  country,  called  the  tenure  of  the  straw;  ^  whereby  men 
thinke  their  dwellings  are  their  own  auntient  inheritances,  and 
that  they  may  passe  the  same  to  any,  and  dispose  thereof  without 
license  from  the  lord,  but  paying  him  a  bare  small  rent  like  unto 
a  fee-farme  in  England;  wherein  they  are  much  deceived.' 

William  the  Conqueror,  among  his  plans  for  the  benefit  of  his 
English  subjects,  adopted  that  of  inducing  or  compelling  them  to 
surrender  their  allodial  lands,  and  receive  them  back  to  hold  by 
feudal  tenure.  The  Earl  of  Derby  projected  the  surrender  of  a 
similar  right,  in  order  to  create  tenures  more  profitable  to  himself 
—  a  simple  lease  for  three  lives,  or  twenty-one  years.  The  mea- 
sure was  entirely  novel,  although  the  attempt  to  prevent  *  alien- 
ation without  license  from  the  lord,  for  purposes  of  a  less  profit- 
able exaction,  may  be  traced,  together  with  the  scenes  of  violence 

*  In  the  transfer  of  real  estates  both  parties  came  into  the  common  law  court,  and  the 
grantor,  in  the  face  of  the  court,  transferred  his  title  to  the  purchaser  by  the  delivery  of 
a  straw;  which,  being  recorded,  was  his  title.  The  same  practice  prevailed  in  the  transfer 
of  personal  property.  Sir  Edward  Coke,  iv.  6g,  when  speaking  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  says, 
'Upon  the  sale  of  a  horse,  or  any  contract  for  any  other  thing,  they  make  the  stipula- 
tion perfect  per  Iradilionem  stipulae'  (by  the  delivery  of  a  straw).  Perhaps  a  more 
feasible  etymology  of  'stipulation'  than  the  usual  derivation  from  stipes  (a  stake  or 
land-mark),  or  slips  (a  piece  of  money  or  wages). 

'  Among  those  instances  in  which  'the  commands  of  the  lord  proprietor  have  (in 
the  emphatic  words  of  the  commissioners  of  1791,  p.  67)  been  obtruded  on  the  people 
as  laws,'  we  find,  in  1583,  the  prohibition  to  dispose  of  lands  without  license  of  the  lord 
is  prefaced  by  the  broad  admission,  that,  'contrary  to  good  and  laudable  order,  and 
divers  and  sundry  geneial  restraints  made,  the  inhabitants  have,  and  daily  do,  notwith- 
standing the  said  restraints,  buy,  sell,  give,  grant,  chop  and  exchange  their  farms,  lands, 
tenements,  etc.,  at  their  liberties  and  pleasures.'  Alienation  fines  were  first  exacted  in 
1643.    Report  of  Commissioners  0/  1791.  App.  A,  No.  7ii  Rep.  of  Law  Officers. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

it  produced,  through  many  passages  in  the  ancient  records,which 
would  be  inexplicable  without  this  clue. 

The  earl  proceeded,  certainly  with  sufficient  energy  and  con- 
siderable skill,  to  the  accompHshment  of  his  object.  In  the  very 
year  of  his  arrival,  Dec.  1643,  he  appointed  commissioners^  to 
compound  for  leases,  .consisting  of  some  of  his  principal  officers 
(members  of  council),  who  had  themselves  been  prevailed  on  by 
adequate  considerations  to  surrender  their  estates,  and  are  by 
general  tradition  accused  of  having  conspired  to  delude  their 
simple  countrymen  into  the  persuasion  that,  having  no  title- 
deeds,  their  estates  were  insecure,  that  leases  were  title-deeds, 
and  although  nominally  for  limited  terms,  declared  the  lands  to  be 
descendible  to  their  eldest  sons.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  names 
of  Ewan  and  William  Christian,  two  of  the  council,  are  alone 
excluded  from  this  commission. 

We  have  already  seen  two  of  the  name  committed  to  prison. 
The  following  notices,  which  abundantly  unfold  the  ground  of 
the  earl's  hostility  to  the  name  of  Christian,  relate  to  Ewan 
Christian,  the  father  of  William  Dhone,  and  one  of  the  deems- 
ters excluded  from  the  commission. 

'One  presented  me  a  petition  against  Deem.ster^  Christian,  on 
the  behalf  of  an  infant  who  is  conceived  to  have  a  right  unto  his 
farme,  Rainsway  (Ronaldsway) ,  one  of  the  principal  holdings 
in  this  country,  who,  by  reason  of  his  eminencie  here,  and  that  he 
holdeth  much  of  the  same  tenure  of  the  straw  in  other  places, 
he  is  soe  observed,  that  certainly  as  I  temper  the  matter  with 
him  in  this,  soe  shall  I  prevail  with  others.'  .  .  .  By  policie  * 
they  (the  Christians)  are  crept  into  the  principal  places  of  power, 
and  they  be  seated  round  about  the  country,  and  in  the  heart  of  it; 
they  are  matched  with  the  best  families,  etc. 

'The  prayer  of  the  petition,^  formerly  mentioned,  was  to  this 
effect,  that  there  might  be  a  fair  tryal,  and,  when  the  right  was 
recovered,  that  I  would  graunt  them  a  lease  thereof,  this  being 
in  the  tenure  of  the  straw.  .  .  .  Upon  some  conference  with  the 
petitioner,  I  find  a  motion  heretofore  was  made  by  my  commis- 
sioners, that  the  Deemster  should  give  this  fellow  a  summe  of 
money.  But  he  would  part  with  none,  neverthelesse  now  it  may 

•  The  governor,  comptroller,  receiver,  and  John  Cannell,  deemster. 

'  Deemster,  evidently  Anglicised,  the  person  who  deems  the  law  —  a  designation 
anciently  unknown  among  the  natives,  who  continue  to  call  this  officer  brehon,  identical 
with  the  name  of  those  judges  and  laws  so  often  mentioned  in  the  histories  of  Ireland. 

'  Peck,  p.  447.  *  Peck,  p.  448. 

'  I  have  ascertained  the  date  of  this  petition  to  be  1643. 

379 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

be  he  will,  and  I  hope  be  so  wise  as  to  assure  unto  himself  his  hold- 
ing, by  compounding  with  me  for  the  lease  of  the  same,  to  the 
which,  if  they  two  agree,  I  shall  grant  it  him  on  easy  terms.  For 
if  he  break  the  ice,  I  may  haply  catch  some  fish.'  ^ 

The  issue  of  this  piscatory  project  was  but  too  successful. 
Ewan  bent  to  the  reign  of  terror,  and  gave  up  Ronaldsway  to  his 
son  William,  who  accepted  the  lease,  and  named  his  own  descend- 
ants for  the  lives.  Still  the  objects  attained  were  unsubstantial, 
as  being  contrary  to  all  law,  written  or  oral;  and  the  system  was 
incomplete,  untU  sanctioned  by  the  semblance  of  legislative 
confirmation. 

We  have  seen  that  the  earl  had  in  the  island  a  considerable 
military  force,  and  we  know  from  other  sources  ^  that  they  lived 
in  a  great  measure  at  free  quarters.  We  have  his  own  testimony 
for  stating  that  he  achieved  his  objects  by  imprisoning,  until  his 
prisoners  'promised  to  be  good,'  and  successively  filling  their 
places  with  others,  until  they  also  conformed  to  his  theory  of 
public  virtue.  And  the  reader  will  be  prepared  to  hear,  without 
surprise,  that  the  same  means  enabled  him,  in  1645,  to  arrange 
a  legislature  '  capable  of  yielding  a  forced  assent  to  this  notable 
system  of  submission  and  loving-kindness. 

This  is  perhaps  the  most  convenient  place  for  stating  that,  in 
the  subsequent  surrender  of  the  island  to  the  troops  of  the  Parlia- 
ment, the  only  stipulation  made  by  the  islanders  was,  'that  they 
might  enjoy  their  lands  and  liberties  as  they  formerly  had.'  In 
what  manner  this  stipulation  was  performed,  my  notes  do  not 
enable  me  to  state.  The  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  propitious  in 
other  respects,  inflicted  on  the  Isle  of  Man  the  revival  of  its  feudal 
government ;  and  the  affair  of  the  tenures  continued  to  be  a  theme 
of  perpetual  contest  and  unavailing  complaint,  until  finally  ad- 
justed in  1703,  through  the  mediation  of  the  excellent  Bishop 
Wilson  in  a  legislative  compromise,  known  by  the  name  of  the 
Act  of  Settlement,  whereby  the  people  obtained  a  full  recognition 
of  their  ancient  rights,  on  condition  of  doubling  the  actual  quit- 

•  Covetousness  is  not  attributed  to  the  head  of  this  family;  but  the  earl  makes  him- 
self merry  with  his  gallantry:  natural  children,  it  seems,  took  the  name  of  their  father, 
and  not  of  their  mother,  as  elsewhere,  and  'the  deemster  did  not  get  see  many  for  lust's 
sake  as  to  make  the  name  of  Christian  flourish.'  Of  him,  or  a  successor  of  the  same 
name,  it  is  related,  that  he  'won  £500  at  play  from  the  Bishop  of  Sodorand  Man,  with 
which  he  purchased  the  manor  of  Ewanrigg  in  Cumberland,  still  possessed  by  that 
family.' 

*  Evidence  on  the  mock  trial  of  William  Dhone. 

'  We  shall  see,  by  and  by,  a  very  simple  method  of  packing  a  judicial  and  legislative 
body,  by  removing  and  replacing  seven  individuals  by  one  and  the  same  mandate. 

380 


I 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

rents,  and  consenting  to  alienation  fines,  first  exacted  by  the  Earl 
James  in  1643.^ 

In  1648,  William  Dhone  was  appointed  receiver-general;  and  in 
the  same  year  we  find  his  elder  brother,  John  (assistant-deemster 
to  his  father  Ewan),  committed  to  Peel  Castle  on  one  of  these 
occasions,  which  strongly  marks  the  character  of  the  person  and 
the  times,  and  affords  also  a  glimpse  at  the  feeling  of  the  people, 
and  at  the  condition  of  the  devoted  family  of  Christian.  The 
inquisitive  will  find  it  in  a  note;  *  other  readers  will  pass  on. 

The  circumstances  are  familiarly  known,  to  the  reader  of 
English  history,  of  the  march  of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  in  1651,  with 
a  corps  from  the  Isle  of  Man  for  the  service  of  the  King,  his  join- 
ing the  Royal  army  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Worcester,  his 
flight  and  imprisonment  at  Chester,  after  that  signal  defeat,  and 
his  trial  and  execution  at  Bolton  in  Lancashire,  by  the  officers  of 
the  Parhament,  on  the  15th  October  of  that  year. 

Immediately  afterwards,  Colonel  Duckenfield,  who  commanded 
at  Chester  on  behalf  of  the  Parliament,  proceeded  with  an  arma- 
ment of  ten  ships  and  a  considerable  military  force,  for  the  reduc- 
tion of  the  Isle  of  Man. 

William  Christian  was  condemned  and  executed  in  1662-63, 
for  acts  connected  with  its  surrender,  twelve  years  before,  which 
are  still  involved  in  obscurity;  and  it  will  be  most  acceptable  to 
the  general  reader  that  we  should  pass  over  the  intermediate 
period,^  and  leave  the  facts  regarding  this  individual,  all  of  them 

1  Report  of  1791.    App.  A,  No.  71. 

'  A  person  named  Charles  Vaughan  is  brought  to  lodge  an  information,  that,  being  in 
England,  he  fell  into  company  with  a  young  man  named  Christian,  who  said  he  had 
lately  left  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  was  in  search  of  a  brother,  who  was  clerk  to  a  Parlia- 
ment officer;  that,  in  answer  to  some  questions,  be  said,  'The  earl  did  use  the  inhabit- 
ants of  that  isle  very  hardly,  had  estreated  great  fines  from  the  inhabitants,  had 
changed  the  ancient  tenures,  and  forced  them  to  take  leases;  that  he  had  taken  away 
one  hundred  pounds  a-year  from  his  father,  and  had  kept  his  uncle  in  prison  four  or 
five  years.  But  if  ever  the  earl  came  to  England,  he  had  used  the  inhabitants  so  hardly, 
that  he  was  sure  they  would  never  suffer  him  to  land  in  that  island  again.'  An  order 
is  given  to  imprison  John  Christian  (probably  the  reputed  head  of  the  family,  his  father 
being  advanced  in  years)  in  Peel  Castle,  until  he  entered  into  bonds  to  be  of  good  be- 
haviour, and  not  to  depart  the  isle  without  license.  (Insular  Records.)  The  young 
man  in  question  is  said  to  have  been  the  son  of  William  Christian  of  Knockrushen. 

'  Some  readers  may  desire  an  outline  of  this  period.  The  lordship  of  the  island  was 
given  to  Lord  Fairfax,  who  deputed  commissioners  to  regulate  its  affairs;  one  of  them 
(Chaloner)  published  an  account  of  the  island  in  1656.  He  puts  down  William  Christian 
as  receiver-general  in  1653.  We  find  his  name  as  governor  from  1656  to  1658  (Sache- 
verell,  p.  loi),  in  which  year  he  was  succeeded  by  Chaloner  himself.  Among  the  anom- 
alies of  those  times,  it  would  seem  that  he  had  retained  the  office  of  receiver  while  oflBci- 
ating  as  governor;  and  Episcopacy  having  been  abolished,  and  the  receipts  of  the  see 
added  to  those  of  the  exchequer,  he  had  large  accounts  to  settle,  for  which  Chaloner 
sequestered  his  estates  in  his  absence,  and  imprisoned  and  held  to  bail  his  brother  John, 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

extraordinary  and  some  of  peculiar  interest,  to  be  developed  by 
the  record  of  the  trial  and  documents  derived  from  other 
sources. 

A  mandate  by  Charles,  eighth  Earl  of  Derby,  dated  at  Latham 
in  September  1662,  after  descanting  on  the  heinous  sin  of  rebel- 
lion, aggravated  by  its  being  instrumental  ^  in  the  death  of  the 
lord,  and  stating  that  he  is  himself  concerned  to  revenge  a  father's 
blood,  orders  William  Christian  to  be  proceeded  against  forth- 
with, for  all  his  illegal  actions  at,  before,  or  after  the  year  1651  (a 
pretty  sweeping  range).  The  indictment  charges  him  with  '  being 
the  head  of  an  insurrection  against  the  Countess  of  Derby  in  165 1, 
assuming  the  power  unto  himself,  and  depriving  her  ladyship, 
his  lordship,  and  heirs  thereof.' 

A  series  of  depositions  appear  on  record  from  the  3d  to  the 
13th  October,  and  a  reference  by  the  precious  depositaries  of 
justice  of  that  day  to  the  twenty-four  keys,-  'Whether,  upon  the 
examination  taken  and  read  before,  you  find  ISIr.  W.  Christian 
of  Ronaldsway  within  compass  of  the  statute  of  the  year  1422  — 
that  is,  to  receive  a  sentence  without  quest,  or  to  be  tried  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  law.'  This  body,  designated  on  the  record 
*so  many  of  the  keys  as  were  then  present,'  were  in  number 
seventeen;  but  not  being  yet  sufficiently  select  to  approve  of 
sentence  without  trial,  made  their  return,  '  To  be  tried  by  course 
of  law.' 

On  the  26th  November,  it  is  recorded  that  the  governor  and 
attorney-general  having  proceeded  to  the  jaU  'with  a  guard  of 
soldiers,  to  require  him  (Christian)  to  the  bar  to  receive  his  trial, 
he  refused,  and  denied  to  come  and  abide  the  same'  (admirable 
courtesy  to  invite,  instead  of  bringing  him  to  the  bar!);  where- 
upon the  governor  demanded  the  law  of  Deemster  Norris,  who 
then  sat  in  judication.    Deemster  John  Christian  having  not 

for  aiding  what  he  calls  his  escape;  his  son  George  returned  from  England,  by  permission 
of  Lord  Fairfax,  to  settle  his  father's  accounts.  Chaloner  informs  us  that  the  revenues 
of  the  suppressed  see  were  not  appropriated  to  the  private  use  of  Lord  Fairfax,  who, 
'for  the  better  encouragement  and  support  of  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  and  for  the 
promoting  of  learning,  hath  conferred  all  this  revenue  upon  the  ministers,  as  also  for  the 
maintaining  of  free  schools,  i.e.  at  Castletown,  Peel,  Douglass,  and  Ramsay.'  Chaloner 
pays  a  liberal  tribute  to  the  talents  of  the  clergy  and  the  learning  and  piety  of  the  late 
bishops. 

1  See  the  remark  in  Christian's  dying  speech,  that  the  late  earl  had  been  executed 
eight  days  before  the  insurrection. 

'  The  court  for  criminal  trials  was  composed  of  the  governor  and  councQ  (including 
the  deemsters)  and  the  keys,  who  also,  with  the  lord,  composed  the  three  branches  of 
the  legislative  body;  and  it  was  the  practice  in  cases  of  doubtjto  refer  points  of  custom- 
ary law  to  the  deemsters  and  keys. 

382 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

appeared,  and  Mr.  Edward  Christian/  his  son  and  assistant, 
having  also  forborne  to  sit  in  this  court,  he  the  said  Deemster 
Norris  craved  the  advice  and  assistance  of  the  twenty-four  keys; 
and  the  said  deemster  and  keys  deemed  the  law  therein,  to  wit, 
that  he  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  lord  for  life  and  goods. 

It  will  be  observed  that  seven  of  the  keys  were  formerly  absent, 
on  what  account  we  shall  presently  see.  All  this  was  very  clev- 
erly arranged  by  the  following  recorded  order,  2gth  December  — 
'These  of  the  twenty- four  keys  are  removed  of  that  company,  in 
reference  to  my  honourable  lord's  order  in  that  behalf;  enumerat- 
ing seven  names,  not  of  the  seventeen  before  mentioned,  and 
naming  seven  others  who  'are  sworn  ^  in  their  places.'  The  judi- 
cature is  further  improved  by  transferring  an  eighth  individual 
of  the  first  seventeen  to  the  council,  and  filling  his  place  with 
another  proper  person.  These  facts  have  been  related  with  some 
minuteness  of  detail  for  two  reasons:  ist.  Although  nearly 
equalled  by  some  of  the  subsequent  proceedings,  they  would  not 
be  credited  on  common  authority;  and  2d,  They  render  all  com- 
ment unnecessary,  and  prepare  the  reader  for  any  judgment, 
however  extraordinary,  to  be  expected  from  such  a  tribunal. 

Then  come  the  proceedings  of  the  29th  December  —  the  pro- 
posals, as  they  are  named,  to  the  deemsters '  and  twenty-four  keys 
now  assembled  'to  be  answered  in  point  of  law.'  ist.  Any  male- 
factor, etc.,  being  indicted,  etc.,  and  denying  to  abide  the  law  of 
his  country  in  that  course  (notwithstanding  any  argument  or 
plea  he  may  offer  for  himself),  and  thereupon  deemed  to  forfeit 
body  and  goods,  etc.,  whether  he  may  afterwards  obtain  the  same 
benefit,  etc.  etc.;  to  which,  on  the  same  day,  they  answered  in 
the  negative.  It  was  found  practicable,  on  the  31st,  to  bring  the 
prisoner  to  the  bar,  to  hear  his  sentence  of  being  'shot  to  death, 
that  thereupon  his  life  may  depart  from  his  body ';  which  sentence 
was  executed  on  the  2d  of  January  1663. 

That  he  made  '  an  excellent  speech '  at  the  place  of  execution  is 
recorded,  where  we  should  little  expect  to  find  it,  in  the  parochial 
register;  the  accuracy  of  that  which  has  been  preserved  as  such 

•  The  grandson  of  Ewan.  It  appears  by  the  proceedings  of  the  King  in  council, 
1663,  that  'he  did,  when  the  court  refused  to  admit  of  the  deceased  William  Christian's 
plea  of  the  Act  of  Indempnity,  make  his  protestation  against  their  illegal  proceedings, 
and  did  withdraw  himself,  and  came  to  England  to  solicit  his  Majesty,  and  implore  his 
justice.' 

'  The  Commissioners  of  lygi  are  in  doubt  regarding  the  time  when,  and  the  manner 
in  which,  the  keys  were  first  elected;  this  notable  precedent  had  perhaps  not  fallen 
under  their  observation. 

*  Hugh  Cannell  was  now  added  as  a  second  deemster. 


APPENDICES   TO  INTRODUCTION 

in  the  family  of  a  clergyman  (and  appears  to  have  been  printed 
on  or  before  1776  0  rests  chiefly  on  internal  evidence,  and  on  its 
accordance,  in  some  material  points,  with  facts  suppressed  or  dis- 
torted in  the  records,  but  established  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
privy  council.  It  is  therefore  given  without  abbreviation,  and  the 
material  points  of  evidence  in  the  voluminous  depositions  on 
both  trials  ^  are  extracted  for  reference  in  a  note.^ 

*  One  of  the  copies  in  my  possession  is  stated  to  be  transcribed  in  that  year  from  the 
printed  speech,  the  other  as  stated  in  the  text. 

»  Both  trials:  the  first  is  for  the  same  purposes  as  the  English  grand  jury,  with  this 
most  especial  difference,  that  evidence  is  admitted  for  the  prisoner,  and  it  thus  becomes 
what  it  is  frequently  called,  the  first  trial;  the  second,  if  the  indictment  be  found,  is  in 
all  respects  like  that  by  petty  jury  in  England. 

'  This  testimony  will  of  course  be  received  with  due  suspicion,  and  confronted  with 
the  only  defence  known,  that  of  his  dying  speech.  It  goes  to  establish  that  Christian 
had  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  an  association,  bound  by  a  secret  oath  to  'with- 
stand the  Lady  of  Derby  in  her  designs  until  she  had  yielded  or  condescended  to  their 
aggrievances';  among  which  grievances,  during  the  earl's  residence,  we  find  incidentally 
noticed,  'the  troop  that  was  in  the  isle  and  their  free  quarterage';  that  he  had  repre- 
sented her  ladyship  to  have  deceived  him,  by  entering  into  negotiations  with  the 
Parliament,  contrary  to  her  promise  to  communicate  with  him  in  such  a  case;  that 
Christian  and  his  associates  declared  that  she  was  about  to  sell  them  for  twopence  or 
threepence  a-piece;  that  he  told  his  associates  that  he  had  entered  into  correspond- 
ence with  Major  Fox  and  the  Parliament,  and  received  their  authority  to  raise  the 
country;  that  in  consequence  of  this  insurrection  her  ladyship  appointed  commis- 
sioners to  treat  with  others  'on  the  part  of  the  country,'  and  articles  of  agreement 
were  concluded  (see  the  speech)  which  nowhere  now  appear;  that  on  the  appearance 
of  Duckenfield's  ships,  standing  for  Ramsay  Bay,  one  of  the  insurgents  boarded  them 
off  Douglas, 'to  give  intelligence  of  the  condition  of  the  country';  the  disposable  troops 
marched  under  the  governor,  Sir  Philip  Musgrave,  for  Ramsay;  that  when  the  ship- 
ping had  anchored,  a  deputation  of  three  persons,  viz.  John  Christian,  Ewan  Cur- 
phey,  and  William  Standish,  proceeded  on  board  to  negotiate  for  the  surrender  of  the 
island  (where  William  was  does  not  appear).  The  destruction  of  the  articles  of  agree- 
ment, and  the  silence  of  the  records  regarding  the  relative  strength  of  the  forces,  leave 
us  without  the  means  of  determining  the  degree  of  merit  or  demerit  to  be  ascribed 
to  these  negotiators,  or  the  precise  authority  under  which  they  acted;  but  the  griev- 
ances to  be  redressed  are  cleared  from  every  obscurity  by  the  all-sufficient  testimony 
of  the  terms  demanded  from  the  victors,  'that  they  might  enjoy  their  lands  and  liberties 
as  formerly  they  had;  and  that  it  was  demanded  whether  they  asked  any  more,  but 
nothing  else  was  demanded  that  this  examinant  heard  of.  The  taking  of  Loyal  Fort 
near  Ramsay  (commanded  by  a  Major  Duckenfield,  who  was  made  prisoner),  and  of 
Peel  Castle,  appear  on  record;  but  nothing  could  be  found  regarding  the  surrender  of 
Castle  Rushen,  or  of  the  Countess  of  Derby's  subsequent  imprisonment.  Had  the 
often-repeated  tale  of  William  Christian  having  'treacherously  seized  upon  the  lady 
and  her  children, with  the  governors  of  both  castles,  in  the  middle  of  the  night'  (Rolt's 
History  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  published  in  1773,  p.  8g),  rested  on  the  slightest  semblance 
of  truth,  we  should  inevitably  have  found  an  attempt  to  prove  it  in  the  proceedings  of 
this  mock  trial.  In  the  absence  of  authentic  details,  the  tradition  may  be  adverted  to, 
that  her  ladyship,  on  learning  the  proceedings  at  Ramsay,  hastened  to  embark  in  a  vessel 
she  had  prepared,  but  was  intercepted  before  she  could  reach  it.  The  same  uncertainty 
exists  with  regard  to  any  negotiations  on  her  part  with  the  officers  of  the  Parliament, 
as  armed  by  the  insurgents;  the  earPs  first  letter,  after  his  capture  and  before  his 
trial,  says  —  'Truly,  as  matters  go,  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  make  conditions  for  your- 
self, children,  and  friends  in  the  manner  as  we  have  proposed,  or  as  you  can  farther 
agree  with  Col.  Duckenfield,  who,  being  so  much  a  gentleman  bom,  will  doubtless, 
for  his  own  honour,  deal  fairly  with  you.'   He  seems  also  to  have  hoped  at  that  time 

384 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

The  last  speech  of  William  Christian,  Esq.,  who  was  executed 
ad  January  1662-63:  — 

'  Gentlemen,  and  the  rest  of  you  who  have  accompanied  me  this 
day  to  the  gate  of  death,  I  know  you  expect  I  should  say  some- 
thing at  my  departure;  and  indeed  I  am  in  some  measure  willing 
to  satisfy  you,  having  not  had  the  least  liberty,  since  my  impris- 
onment, to  acquaint  any  with  the  sadness  of  my  sufferings,  which 
flesh  and  blood  could  not  have  endured  without  the  power  and 
assistance  of  my  most  gracious  and  good  God,  into  whose  hands 
I  do  now  commit  my  poor  soul,  not  doubting  but  that  I  shall  very 
quickly  be  in  the  arms  of  His  mercy. 

'I  am,  as  you  now  see,  hurried  hither  by  the  power  of  a  pre- 
tended court  of  justice,  the  members  whereof,  or  at  least  the 
greatest  part  of  them,  are  by  no  means  qualified,  but  very  ill 
befitting  their  new  places.  The  reasons  you  may  give  yourselves. 

'The  cause  for  which  I  am  brought  hither,  as  the  prompted 
and  threatened  jury  has  delivered,  is  high  treason  against  the 
Countess  Dowager  of  Derby;  for  that  I  did,  as  they  say,  in  the 
year  fifty-one,  raise  a  force  against  her  for  the  suppressing  and 
rooting  out  that  family.  How  unjust  the  accusation  is,  very  few 
of  you  that  hear  me  this  day  but  can  witness;  and  that  the  then 
rising  of  the  people,  in  which  afterwards  I  came  to  be  engaged, 
did  not  at  all,  or  in  the  least  degree,  intend  the  prejudice  or  ruin 
of  that  family;  the  chief  whereof  being,  as  you  well  remember, 
dead  eight  days,  or  thereabout,  before  that  action  happened. 
But  the  true  cause  of  that  rising,  as  ^  the  jury  did  twice  bring  in, 
was  to  present  grievances  to  our  honourable  lady;  which  was  done 
by  me,  and  afterwards  approved  by  her  ladyship,  under  the  hand 
of  her  then  secretary,  M.  Trevach,  who  is  yet  living,  which  agree- 
ment hath  since,  to  my  own  ruin  and  my  poor  family's  endless 
sorrow,  been  forced  from  me.  The  Lord  God  forgive  them  the 
injustice  of  their  dealings  with  me,  and  I  wish  from  my  heart  it 
may  not  be  laid  to  their  charge  another  day! 

'  You  now  see  me  here  a  sacrifice  ready  to  be  offered  up  for  that 
which  was  the  preservation  of  your  lives  and  fortunes,  which  were 
then  in  hazard,  but  that  I  stood  between  you  and  your  (then  in 
all  appearance)  utter  ruin.  I  wish  you  still  may,  as  hitherto, 
enjoy  the  sweet  benefit  and  blessing  of  peace,  though  from  that 
minute  imtil  now  I  have  still  been  prosecuted  and  persecuted,  nor 

that  it  might  influence  his  own  fate;  and  the  eloquent  and  affecting  letter  written  imme- 
diately before  his  execution  repeatsthesameadmonitions  to  treat.  —  Roll,  pp.  74  and  84. 
*  This  fact,  as  might  be  expected,  is  not  to  be  traced  on  the  record  of  the  trial. 

27  385 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

have  I  ever  since  found  a  place  to  rest  myself  in.  But  my  God  be 
for  ever  blessed  and  praised,  who  hath  given  me  so  large  a  measure 
of  patience! 

'What  services  I  have  done  for  that  noble  family,  by  whose 
power  I  am  now  to  take  my  latest  breath,  I  dare  appeal  to  them- 
selves, whether  I  have  not  deserved  better  things  from  some  of 
them  than  the  sentence  of  my  bodily  destruction,  and  seizure  of 
the  poor  estate  my  son  ought  to  enjoy,  being  purchased  and  left 
him  by  his  grandfather.  It  might  have  been  much  better  had  I 
not  spent  it  in  the  service  of  my  honourable  Lord  of  Derby  and 
his  family;  these  things  I  need  not  mention  to  you,  for  that  most 
of  you  are  witnesses  to  it.  I  shall  now  beg  your  patience  while 
I  tell  you  here,  in  the  presence  of  God,  that  I  never  in  all  my  life 
acted  anything  with  intention  to  prejudice  my  sovereign  lord  the 
King,  nor  the  late  Earl  of  Derby,  nor  the  now  earl;  yet  notwith- 
standing, being  in  England  at  the  time  of  his  sacred  Majesty's 
happy  restoration,  I  went  to  London,  with  many  others,  to  have 
a  sight  of  my  gracious  King,  whom  God  preserve,  and  whom, 
until  then,  I  never  had  seen.  But  I  was  not  long  there  when  I 
was  arrested  upon  an  action  of  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and 
clapped  up  in  the  Fleet;  unto  which  action  I,  being  a  stranger, 
could  give  no  bail,  but  was  there  kept  nearly  a  whole  year.  How 
I  suffered,  God  He  knows;  but  at  last,  having  gained  my  Hberty, 
I  thought  good  to  advise  with  several  gentlemen  concerning  his 
Majesty's  gracious  Act  of  Indemnity  that  was  then  set  forth,  in 
which  I  thought  myself  concerned;  unto  which  they  told  me  there 
was  no  doubt  to  be  made  but  that  all  actions  committed  in  the 
Isle  of  Man,  relating  in  any  kind  to  the  war,  were  pardoned  by  the 
Act  of  Indemnity,  and  all  other  places  within  his  Majesty's 
dominions  and  countries.  Whereupon,  and  having  been  forced 
to  absent  myself  from  my  poor  wife  and  children  near  three  years, 
being  all  that  time  under  persecution,  I  did  with  great  content 
and  satisfaction  return  into  this  island,  hoping  then  to  receive 
the  comfort  and  sweet  enjoyment  of  my  friends  and  poor  family. 
But,  alas!  I  have  fallen  into  the  snare  of  the  fowler;  but  my  God 
shall  ever  be  praised:  though  He  kill  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him. 

'I  may  justly  say  no  man  in  this  island  knows  better  than  my- 
self the  power  the  Lord  Derby  hath  in  this  island,  subordinate 
to  his  sacred  Majesty,  of  which  I  have  given  a  full  account  in  my 
declaration  presented  to  my  judges,  which  I  much  fear  will  never 
see  Ught,^  which  is  no  small  trouble  to  me. 

'  The  apprehension  was  but  too  correct. 

3S6 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

'It  was  his  Majesty's  most  gracious  Act  of  Indemnity  gave 
me  the  confidence  and  assurance  of  my  safety;  on  which,  and  an 
appeal  I  made  to  his  sacred  Majesty  and  privy  council,  from  the 
unjustness  of  the  proceedings  had  against  me,  I  did  much  rely, 
being  his  Majesty's  subject  here,  and  a  denizen  of  England  both 
by  birth  and  fortune.  And  in  regard  I  have  disobeyed  the  power 
of  my  Lord  of  Derby's  Act  of  Indemnity,  which  you  now  look 
upon,  and  his  Majesty's  Act  cast  out  as  being  of  no  force,  I  have 
with  greater  violence  been  persecuted;  yet,  nevertheless,  I  do 
declare,  that  no  subject  whatever  can  or  ought  to  take  upon  them 
acts  of  indemnity  but  his  sacred  Majesty  only,  with  the  con^rm- 
ation  of  Parhament. 

'It  is  very  fit  I  should  say  something  as  to  my  education  and 
religion.  I  think  I  need  not  inform  you,  for  you  all  know,  I  was 
brought  up  a  son  of  the  Church  of  England,  which  was  at  that 
time  in  her  splendour  and  glory;  and  to  my  endless  comfort  I  have 
ever  since  continued  a  faithful  member,  witness  several  of  my 
actions  in  the  late  times  of  liberty.  And  as  for  government,  I 
never  was  against  monarchy,  which  now,  to  my  soul's  great  satis- 
faction, I  have  Hved  to  see  is  settled  and  established.  I  am  well 
assured  that  men  of  upright  life  and  conversation  may  have  the 
favourable  countenance  of  our  gracious  King,  under  whose  happy 
government  God  of  His  infinite  mercy  long  continue  these  his 
kingdoms  and  dominions.  And  now  I  do  most  heartily  thank  my 
good  God  that  I  have  had  so  much  liberty  and  time  to  disburden 
myself  of  several  things  that  have  laid  heavy  upon  me  all  the  time 
of  my  imprisonment,  in  which  I  have  not  had  time  or  liberty  to 
speak  or  write  any  of  my  thoughts;  and  from  my  soul  I  wish  all 
animosity  may  after  my  death  be  quite  laid  aside,  and  my  death 
by  none  be  called  in  question,  for  I  do  freely  forgive  all  that  have 
had  any  hand  in  my  persecution ;  and  may  our  good  God  preserve 
you  all  in  peace  and  qviiet  the  remainder  of  your  days! 

'Be  ye  all  of  you  his  Majesty's  liege  people,  loyal  and  faithful 
to  his  sacred  Majesty;  and,  according  to  your  oath  of  faith  and 
fealty  to  my  honourable  Lord  of  Derby,  do  you  likewise,  in  all 
just  and  lawful  ways,  observe  his  commands;  and  know  that  you 
must  one  day  give  an  account  of  all  your  deeds.  And  now  the 
blessing  of  Almighty  God  be  with  you  all,  and  preserve  you  from 
violent  death,  and  keep  you  in  peace  of  conscience  all  your  days! 

'I  will  now  hasten,  for  my  flesh  is  wilUng  to  be  dissolved,  and 
my  spirit  to  be  with  God,  who  hath  given  me  full  assurance  of  His 
mercy  and  pardon  for  all  my  sins,  of  which  His  unspeakable 

387 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

goodness  and  loving-kindness  my  poor  soul  is  exceedingly  satis- 
fied.' 

Note.^  —  Here  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  passed  some  time 
in  prayer;  then  rising  exceedingly  cheerful,  he  addressed  the  sol- 
diers appointed  for  his  execution,  saying  —  *  Now  for  you,  who 
are  appointed  by  lot  my  executioners,  I  do  freely  forgive  you.' 
He  requested  them  and  all  present  to  pray  for  him,  adding,  'There 
is  but  a  thin  veil  betwixt  me  and  death ;  once  more  I  request  your 
prayers,  for  now  I  take  my  last  farewell.' 

The  soldiers  wished  to  bind  him  to  the  spot  on  which  he  stood. 
He  said,  'Trouble  not  yourselves  or  me;  for  I,  that  dare  face  death 
in  whatever  form  he  comes,  will  not  start  at  your  fire  and  bullets; 
nor  can  the  power  you  have  deprive  me  of  my  courage.'  At  his 
desire  a  piece  of  white  paper  was  given  him,  which  with  the  ut- 
most composure  he  pinned  to  his  breast,  to  direct  them  where  to 
aim;  and  after  a  short  prayer  addressed  the  soldiers  thus  —  'Hit 
this,  and  you  do  your  own  and  my  work.'  And  presently  after, 
stretching  forth  his  arms,  which  was  the  signal  he  gave  them,  he 
was  shot  through  the  heart  and  fell. 

Edward  Christian,  the  nephew,  and  George,  the  son,  of  the 
deceased,  lost  no  time  in  appealing  to  his  Majesty  in  council 
against  this  judicial  murder;  and  George  was  furnished  with  an 
order  'to  pass  and  repass,'  etc.,  'and  bring  with  him  such  records 
and  persons  as  he  should  desire,  to  make  out  the  truth  of  his 
complaint.'  Edward  returned  with  him  to  the  island  for  that 
purpose;  for  we  find  him,  in  April  1663,  compelled,  in  the  true 
spirit  of  the  day,  to  give  bond  'that  he  would  at  all  times  appear 
and  answer  to  such  charges  as  might  be  preferred  against  him, 
and  not  depart  the  isle  without  license.'  George  was  prevented,  by 
various  contrivances,  from  serving  the  King's  order;  but  on  pre- 
senting a  second  petition,  the  governor,  deemster,  and  members 
of  councU  were  brought  up  to  London  by  a  sergeant-at-arms; 
and  these  six  persons,  together  with  the  Earl  of  Derby,  being  com- 
pelled to  appear,  a  full  hearing  took  place  before  the  King  in  per- 
son,  the  Chancellor,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  Lord  Chief  Baron 
and  other  members  of  council;  judgment  was  extended  on  the  5th. 
August,  and  that  judgment  was  on  the  14th  of  the  same  month 
ordered  '  to  be  printed  in  foUo,  in  such  manner  as  Acts  of  ParUa- 
ment  are  usually  printed,  and  his  Majesty's  arms  prefixed.' 

This  authentic  document  designates  the  persons  brought  up 
as  'members  of  the  pretended  court  of  justice';  declares  'that  the 

>  This  note  is  annexed  to  all  the  copies  of  the  speech. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

general  Act  of  Pardon  and  Amnesty  did  extend  to  the  Isle  of  Man, 
and  ought  to  have  been  taken  notice  of  by  the  judges  in  that 
island,  although  it  had  not  been  pleaded;  that  the  court  refused 
to  admit  the  deceased  William  Christian's  plea  of  the  Act  of 
Indempnity,'  etc.  'Full  restitution  is  ordered  to  be  made  to  his 
heirs  of  all  his  estates,  real  and  personal.'  Three  ^  other  persons 
'who  were  by  the  same  court  of  justice  imprisoned,  and  their  es- 
tates seized  and  confiscated  without  any  legal  trial,'  are  ordered, 
together  with  the  Christians,  '  to  be  restored  to  all  their  estates, 
real  and  personal,  and  to  be  fully  repaired  in  all  the  charges  and 
expenses  which  they  have  been  at  since  their  first  imprisonment, 
as  well  in  the  prosecution  of  this  business,  or  in  their  journey 
hither,  or  in  any  other  way  thereunto  relating.'  The  mode  of 
raising  funds  for  the  purposes  of  this  restitution  is  equally  pecu- 
liar and  instructive;  these  'sums  of  money  are  ordered  to  be  fur- 
nished by  the  deemsters,  members,  and  assistants  of  the  said 
Court  of  Justice,'  who  are  directed  'to  raise  and  make  due  pay- 
ment thereof  to  the  parties.' 

'And  to  the  end  that  the  blood  that  has  been  unjustly  spilt  may 
in  some  sort  be  expiated,'  etc.,  the  deemsters  are  ordered  to  'be 
committed  to  the  King's  Bench,  to  be  proceeded  against,  etc.  etc., 
and  receive  condign  punishment.'  (It  is  believed  that  this  part 
of  the  order  was  afterwards  relaxed  or  rendered  nugatory.)  The 
three  members  of  council  were  released  on  giving  security  to  ap- 
pear, if  required,  and  to  make  the  restitution  ordered.  'And  in 
regard  that  Edward  Christian,  being  one  of  the  deemsters  or 
judges  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  did,  when  the  court  refused  to  admit 
of  the  deceased  W.  Christian's  plea  of  the  Act  of  Indemnity, 
make  his  protestation  against  their  illegal  proceedings,  and  did 
withdraw  himself,  and  come  to  England  to  solicit  his  Majesty 
and  implore  his  justice,  it  is  ordered  that  the  Earl  of  Derby  do 
forthwith,  by  commission,  etc.,  restore  and  appoint  him  as  deem- 
ster, so  to  remain  and  continue,'  etc.  —  which  order  was  dis- 
obeyed. And  lastly,  that '  Henry  Nowell,  deputy-governor,  whose 
fault  hath  been  the  not  complying  with,  and  yielding  due  obedience 
to,  the  order  2  of  his  Majesty  and  this  board  sent  unto  the  island 
(O  most  lame  and  impotent  conclusion!),  be  permitted  to  return' 
to  the  isle,  and  enforce  the  present  order  of  the  King  in  council. 

•  Ewan  Curphey,  Samuel  Ratcliffe,  and  John  Caesar,  men  of  considerable  landed 
property. 

'  Tradition,  in  accordance  with  the  dirge  of  William  Dhone,  says  that  the  order  to 
stop  proceedings  and  suspend  the  sentence  arrived  on  the  day  preceding  that  of  his 
execution. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

Of  the  Earl  of  Derby  no  further  mention  occurs  in  this  docu- 
ment. The  sacrifices  made  by  this  noble  family  in  support  of  the 
Royal  cause  drew  a  large  share  of  indulgence  over  the  exception- 
able parts  of  their  conduct;  but  the  mortification  necessarily  con- 
sequent on  this  appeal,  the  incessant  complaints  of  the  people, 
and  the  difficulty  subsequently  experienced  by  them  in  obtaining 
access  to  a  superior  tribunal,  receive  a  curious  illustration  in  an 
order  of  the  King  in  coimcil,  dated  20th  August  1670,  on  a  peti- 
tion of  the  Earl  of  Derby, '  that  the  clerk  of  the  council  in  waiting 
receive  no  petition,  appeal,  or  complaint  against  the  lord  or 
government  of  the  Isle  of  Man  without  having  first  good  security 
from  the  complainant  to  answer  costs,  damages,  and  charges.' 

The  historical  notices  of  this  kingdom  ^  of  Lilliput  are  curious 
and  instructive  with  reference  to  other  times  and  different  cir- 
cumstances, and  they  have  seemed  to  require  httle  comment  or 
antiquarian  remark;  but  to  condense  what  may  be  collected  with 
regard  to  Edward  Christian,  the  accomplished  villain  of  Peveril, 
the  insinuations  of  his  accuser  ^  constitute  in  themselves  an 
abundant  defence.  When  so  little  can  be  imputed  by  such  an 
adversary,  the  character  must  indeed  be  invulnerable.  Tradition 
ascribes  to  him  nothing  but  what  is  amiable,  patriotic,  honourable, 
and  good,  in  all  the  relations  of  public  and  private  life.  He  died, 
after  an  imprisonment  of  seven  or  eight  years,  the  victim  of  in- 
corrigible obstinacy,  according  to  one,  of  ruthless  tyranny,  ac- 
cording to  another,  vocabulary;  but  resembling  the  character  of 
the  novel  in  nothing  but  unconquerable  courage. 

Treachery  and  ingratitude  have  been  heaped  on  the  memory 
of  WilUam  Christian  with  sufficient  profusion.  Regarding  the  first 
of  these  crimes  —  if  all  that  has  been  affirmed  or  insinuated  in  the 
mock  trial  rested  on  a  less  questionable  basis,  posterity  would 
scarcely  pronounce  an  unanimous  verdict  of  moral  and  political 
guilt  against  an  association  to  subvert  such  a  government  as  is 
described  by  its  own  author.  The  pecuHar  favours  for  which  he 
or  his  family  were  ungrateful  are  not  to  be  discovered  in  these 
proceedings;  except,  indeed,  in  the  form  of  'chastisements  of  the 
Almighty  —  blessings  in  disguise.'  But  if  credit  be  given  to  the 
dying  words  of  William  Christian,  his  efforts  were  strictly  limited 
to  a  redress  of  grievances — a  purpose  always  criminal  in  the  eye 

'  Earl  James,  although  studious  of  kingcraft,  assigns  good  reasons  for  having  never 
pretended  to  assume  that  title,  and  among  others,  'Nor  doth  it  please  a  king  that  any 
of  his  subjects  should  too  much  love  that  name,  were  it  but  to  act  it  in  a  play.'  —  Peck, 
p.  436. 

*  Peck,  passim, 

390. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

of  the  oppressor.  If  he  had  lived  and  died  on  a  larger  scene,  his 
memory  wovdd  probably  have  survived  among  the  patriots  and 
the  heroes.  In  some  of  the  manuscript  narratives  he  is  designated 
as  a  martyr  for  the  rights  and  liberties  of  his  countrymen;  who 
add,  in  their  homely  manner,  that  he  was  condemned  without  trial 
and  murdered  without  remorse. 

We  have  purposely  abstained  from  all  attempt  to  enlist  the  pas- 
sions in  favour  of  the  sufferings  of  a  people,  or  in  detestation  of 
oppressions,  which  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  ascribed  as  much  to  the 
character  of  the  times  as  to  that  of  individuals.  The  naked  facts 
of  the  case,  unaided  by  the  wild  and  plaintive  notes  in  which  the 
maidens  of  the  isle  were  wont  to  bewail  'the  heart-rending 
death  of  fair-haired  William,'  ^  are  sufficient  of  themselves  to 
awaken  the  sympathy  of  every  generous  mind;  and  it  were  a  more 
worthy  exercise  of  that  despotic  power  over  the  imagination,  so 
eminently  possessed  by  the  Great  Unknown,  to  embalm  the 
remembrance  of  two  such  men  in  his  immortal  pages,  than  to 
load  their  memories  with  crimes  such  as  no  human  being  ever 
committed. 

I  am  enabled  to  add  the  translation  of  the  lament  over  the  fair- 
haired  William  Christian.  It  is  originally  composed  in  the  Manx 
language,  and  consists  of  a  series  of  imprecations  of  evil  upon  the 
enemies  of  Christian,  and  prophecies  to  the  same  purpose:  — 

On  the  Death  and  Murder  of  Receiver-General  William  Christian  op 

RONALDSWAV,  WHO   WAS    SHOT   NEAR   HaNGO   HiLL,   JANUARY    2,    1662 

In  so  shifting  a  scene,  who  would  confidence  place 
In  family,  power,  youth,  or  in  personal  grace? 
No  character's  proof  against  enmity  foul; 
And  thy  fate,  William  Dh6ne,  sickens  our  soul. 

You  are  Derby's  receiver  of  patriot  zeal, 
Replete  with  good  sense,  and  reputed  genteel. 
Your  justice  applauded  by  the  young  and  the  old; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

A  kind,  able  patron  both  to  church  and  to  state  — 
What  roused  their  resentment  but  talents  so  great? 
No  character's  proof  against  enmity  foul; 

And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Thy  pardon,  't  is  rumour'd,  came  over  the  main. 
Nor  late,  but  conceal'd  by  a  villain  '  in  grain; 

•  The  literal  translation  given  to  me  by  a  young  lady. 

•  A  person  named  in  the  next  stanza  is  said  to  have  intercepted  a  pardon  sent  from 
England  for  William  Christian,  found,  it  is  alleged,  in  the  foot  of  an  old  woman's  stock- 
ing.  The  tradition  is  highly  improbable.    If  Christian  had  been  executed  against  the 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

T  was  fear  forced  the  jury  to  a  sentence  so  foul; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Triumphant  stood  Colcott,  he  wish'd  for  no  more, 
When  the  pride  of  the  Christians  lay  welt'ring  in  gore, 
To  malice  a  victim,  though  steady  and  bold; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

With  adultery  stain'd,  and  polluted  with  gore. 
He  Ronaldsway  eyed,  as  Loghuecolly  before, 
'T  was  the  land  sought  the  culprit,  as  Ahab  before; 
•  And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Proceed  to  the  once  famed  abode  of  the  nuns. 
Call  the  Colcotts  aloud,  till  you  torture  your  lungs, 
Their  short  triumph's  ended,  extinct  is  the  whole; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

For  years  could  Robert  lay  crippled  in  bed, 
Nor  knew  the  world  peace  while  he  held  up  his  head. 
The  neighbourhood's  scourge  in  iniquity  bold; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Not  one's  heard  to  grieve,  seek  the  country  all  through, 
Nor  lament  for  the  name  that  Bcmaccan  once  knew; 
The  poor  rather  load  it  with  curses  untold; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Ballalough  and  the  Creggans  mark  strongly  their  sin, 
Not  a  soul  of  the  name's  there  to  welcome  you  in; 
In  the  power  of  the  strangers  is  centred  the  whole; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

The  opulent  Scarlett,  on  which  the  sea  flows. 
Is  piecemeal  disposed  of  to  whom  the  Lord  knows. 
It  is  here  without  bread  or  defence  from  the  cold; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

They  assert  then  in  vain,  that  the  law  sought  thy  blood. 
For  all  aiding  the  massacre  never  did  good; 
Like  the  rooted-up  golding  deprived  of  its  gold. 
They  languish'd,  were  blasted,  grew  withered  and  old. 

When  the  shoots  of  a  tree  so  corrupted  remain. 
Like  the  brier  or  thistle,  they  goad  us  with  pain; 
Deep,  dark,  undermining,  they  mimic  the  mole; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Round  the  infamous  wretches  who  spilt  Caesar's  blood. 
Dead  spectres  and  conscience  in  sad  array  stood, 
Not  a  man  of  the  gang  reach'd  life's  utmost  goal; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Perdition,  too,  seized  them  who  caused  thee  to  bleed: 
To  decay  fell  their  houses;  their  lands  and  their  seed 
Disappear'd  like  the  vapour  when  morn 's  tinged  with  gold; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

tenor  of  a  pardon  actually  granted,  it  would  not  have  failed  to  be  charged  as  a  high 
aggravation  in  the  subsequent  proceedings  of  the  privy  council. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

From  grief  all  corroding  to  hope  I  Ml  repair, 

That  a  branch  of  the  Christians  will  soon  grace  the  chair, 

With  royal  instructions  his  foes  to  console; 

And  thy  fate,  etc. 

With  a  book  for  my  pillow,  I  dreamt  as  I  lay, 
That  a  branch  of  the  Christians  would  hold  Ronaldsway; 
His  conquest  his  topic  with  friends  o'er  a  bowl; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

And  now  for  a  wish  in  concluding  my  song,  — 

May  th'  Almighty  withhold  me  from  doing  what's  wrong; 

Protect  every  mortal  from  enmity  foul. 

For  thy  fate,  William  DhSne,  sickens  our  soul! ' 


No.  II 


At  the  Court  at  Whitehall, 
August  the  sth,  1663. 


George  Christian,  son  and  heir  of  William  Christian,  deceased, 
having  exhibited  his  complaint  to  his  Majesty  in  council,  that  his 
father,  being  at  a  house  of  his  in  his  Majesty's  Isle  of  Man,  was  im- 
prisoned by  certain  persons  of  that  island,  pretending  themselves 
to  be  a  court  of  justice;  that  he  was  by  them  accused  of  high  trea- 
son, pretended  to  be  committed  against  the  Countess  Dowager  of 
Derby  in  the  year  1651;  and  that  they  thereupon  proceeded  to 
judgment,  and  caused  him  to  be  put  to  death,  notwithstanding 
the  Act  of  General  Pardon  and  Indempnity,  whereof  he  claimed 
the  benefit;  and  his  appeal  to  his  Majesty,  and  humbly  imploring 
his  Majesty's  princely  compassion  towards  the  distressed  widow 
and  seven  fatherless  children  of  the  deceased:  His  Majesty  was 
graciously  pleased,  with  the  advice  of  his  council,  to  order  that 
Thomas  Noris  and  Hugh  Cannell,  the  two  judges  (by  them  in  that 
island  called  deemsters),  and  Richard  Stevenson,  Robert  Calcot, 
and  Richard  Tyldesley,  three  of  the  members  of  the  pretended 
court  of  justice,  and  Henry  Howell,  deputy  of  the  said  island, 
should  be  forthwith  sent  for  and  brought  up  by  a  sergeant-at- 
arms  here,  before  his  Majesty  in  council,  to  appear  and  answer 
to  such  accusations  as  should  be  exhibited  against  them;  which 
said  six  persons  being  accordingly  brought  hither  the  fifteenth 
day  of  July  last  appointed  for  a  full  hearing  of  the  whole  business, 
the  Earl  of  Derby  then  also  summoned  to  appear,  and  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench,  and  the  Lord  Chief  Baron 
of  his  Majesty's  Exchequer,  with  the  King's  council,  learned 

•  It  may  be  recollected  that  these  verses  are  given  through  the  medium  of  a  meagre 
translation,  and  are  deprived  of  the  aid  of  the  music,  otherwise  we  would  certainly 
think  the  memory  of  William  Dbdne  little  honoured  by  his  native  bard. 

393 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

in  the  laws,  required  to  be  present,  and  all  the  parties  called 
in  with  their  counsel  and  witnesses,  after  full  hearing  of  the 
whole  matter  on  both  sides,  and  the  parties  withdrawn,  the  said 
judges  being  desired  to  deliver  their  opinion,  did,  in  presence  of 
the  King's  council,  learned  in  the  laws,  declare  that  the  Act  of 
General  Pardon  and  Indempnity  did,  and  ought  to  be  understood 
to,  extend  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  as  well  as  into  any  other  of  his 
Majesty's  dominions  and  plantations  beyond  the  seas;  and  that, 
being  a  publique  General  Act  of  Parliament,  it  ought  to  have  been 
taken  notice  of  by  the  judges  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  although  it  had 
not  been  pleaded,  and  although  there  were  no  proclamations  made 
thereof.  His  Majesty,  being  therefore  deeply  sensible  of  this  vio- 
lation of  his  Act  of  General  Pardon,  whereof  his  Majesty  hath 
always  been  very  tender,  and  doth  expect  and  require  that  all  his 
subjects  in  all  his  dominions  and  plantations  shall  enjoy  the  full 
benefit  and  advantage  of  the  same,  and  having  this  day  taken  the 
business  into  further  consideration,  and  all  parties  called  in  and 
heard,  did,  by  and  with  the  advice  of  the  council,  order,  and  it  is 
hereby  ordered,  that  all  persons  any  way  concerned  in  the  seizure 
of  the  estate  of  the  said  William  Christian,  deceased,  or  instru- 
mental in  the  ejection  of  the  widow  and  children  out  of  their 
houses  and  fortune,  do  take  care  that  intire  restitution  is  made 
of  all  the  said  estate,  as  well  real  or  personal,  as  also  all  damages 
sustained,  with  full  satisfaction  for  all  profits  by  them  received 
since  the  said  estate  hath  been  in  their  hands;  and  that,  whereas 
the  said  WilUam  Christian,  deceased,  was  one  of  the  two  lives 
remaining  in  an  estate  in  Lancashire,  that  the  detriment  accrew- 
ing  by  the  untimely  death  of  the  said  William  Christian  therein 
or  in  like  cases,  shall  be  estimated,  and  in  Hke  manner  fully  re- 
paired. That  in  regard  of  the  great  trouble  and  charges  the  com- 
plainants have  been  at  in  pursuit  of  this  business,  ordered  that 
they  do  exhibit  to  this  board  a  true  account,  upon  oath,  of  all  ex- 
pences  and  damages  by  them  sustained  in  the  journies  of  them- 
selves and  witnesses,  and  of  all  other  their  charges  in  the  following 
of  this  business. 

And  whereas  Ewan  Curghey,  Sammual  Radcliffe,  and  John 
Casar  were  by  the  same  court  of  justice  imprisoned,  and  had- their 
estates  seised  and  confiscated  without  any  legal  trial,  it  is  ordered 
that  the  said  Ewan  Curghey,  Sammual  Radcliffe,  and  John  Casar 
be  likewise  restored  to  all  their  estates,  real  and  personall,  and 
fully  repaired  in  all  the  charges  and  expences  which  they  have 
been  at  since  their  first  imprisonment,  as  well  in  the  prosecution  of 

394 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

this  business,  or  in  their  journey  thither,  or  in  any  other  way 
whatsoever  thereunto  relating;  the  which  satisfaction,  expences, 
and  all  other  sums  of  money  to  be  raised  by  virtue  of  this  order, 
are  to  be  furnished  by  the  deemsters,  members,  and  assistants  of 
the  said  court  of  justice,  who  are  hereby  ordered  to  raise  all  such 
the  said  sums,  and  thereof  to  make  due  payment,  and  give  full 
satisfaction  unto  the  parties  hereby  appointed  to  receive  it. 

And  to  the  end  the  guilt  of  blood  which  hath  been  unjustly 
spilt  may  in  some  sort  be  expiated,  and  his  Majesty  receive  some 
kind  of  satisfaction  for  the  untimely  loss  of  a  subject,  it  is  ordered 
that  the  said  Thomas  Norris  and  Hugh  Cannell,  who  decreed  this 
violent  death,  be  committed  and  remain  prisoners  in  the  King's 
Bench,  to  be  proceeded  against  in  the  ordinary  course  of  justice, 
so  to  receive  condign  punishment  according  to  the  merit  of  so 
heinous  a  fact. 

That  Richard  Stevenson,  Robert  Calcott,and  Richard  Tyldes- 
ley  be  discharged  from  farther  restraint,  giving  good  security  to 
appear  at  this  board  whensoever  summoned,  and  not  depart  this 
city  until  full  satisfaction  be  given,  and  all  orders  of  this  board 
whatsoever  relating  to  this  business  fully  executed  in  the  island. 
And  in  regard  that,  upon  the  examination  of  this  business,  it  doth 
appear  that  Edward  Christian,  being  one  of  the  deemsters  or 
judges  in  the  Isle  of  Mann,  did,  when  the  court  refused  to  admit 
of  the  deceased  William  Christian's  plea  of  the  Act  of  Indempnity, 
make  his  protestation  against  their  illegal  proceedings,  and  did 
withdraw  himself,  and  come  into  England  to  sollicite  his  Ma- 
jesty, and  implore  his  justice,  it  is  ordered  that  the  Earl  of  Derby 
do  forthwith,  by  commission,  in  due  and  accustomed  manner, 
restore,  constitute,  and  appoint  the  said  Edward  Christian  one 
of  the  deemsters  or  judges  of  the  said  island,  so  to  remain  and 
continue  in  the  due  execution  of  the  said  place. 

And  lastly,  it  is  ordered  that  the  said  Henry  Howell,  deputy- 
governour,  whose  fault  hath  been  the  not  complying  with,  and 
yielding  due  obedience  to,  the  orders  of  His  Majesty  and  this 
board,  sent  into  this  island,  giving  good  security  to  appear  at  this 
board  whensoever  summoned,  be  forthwith  discharged  from  all 
further  restraint,  and  permitted  to  return  into  the  island;  and 
he  is  hereby  strictly  commanded  to  imploy  the  power  and  au- 
thority he  hath,  which  by  virtue  of  his  commission  he  hath  in  that 
island,  in  performance  of,  and  obedience  to,  all  commands  and 
orders  of  his  Majesty  and  this  board  in  this  whole  business,  or 
any  way  relating  thereunto. 

395 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 


(: 

Mgned  by) 

Lord  Chancellor. 

Earl  of  Carbery. 

Lord  Treasurer. 

Lord  Bishop  of  London. 

Lord  Privy  Seal. 

Lord  Wentworth. 

Duke  of  Albemarle. 

Lord  Berkeley. 

Lord  Chamberlain. 

Lord  Ashley. 

Earl  of  Berkshire. 

Sir  William  Compton. 

Earl  of  St.  Alban. 

Mr.  Treasurer. 

Earl  of  Anglesey. 

Mr.  Vice-Chamberlain. 

Earl  of  Sandwich. 

Mr.  Secretary  Morice. 

Earl  of  Bath. 

Mr,  Secretary  Bennett. 

Earl  of  Middleton. 

Richard  Browne, 

Clerk  of  the  Council 

No.  Ill 

At  the  Court  at  Whitehali,,  August  14th,  1663. 

Present. 
The  King's  Most  Excellent  Majesty. 


Lord  Chancellor. 
Lord  Treasurer. 
Lord  Privy  Seal. 
Duke  of  Buckingham. 
Duke  of  Albemarle, 
Lord  Chamberlain. 
Earl  of  Berkshire. 
Earl  of  St.  Alban. 
Earl  of  Sandwich, 
Earl  of  Anglesey. 
Earl  of  Bath. 


Earl  of  Middleton. 

Earl  of  Carbery. 

Lord  Bishop  of  London. 

Lord  Wentworth. 

Lord  Berkeley. 

Lord  Ashley. 

Sir  William  Compton. 

Mr.  Treasurer. 

Mr.  Vice-Chamberlain. 

Mr.  Secretary  Morice. 

Mr.  Secretary  Bennett. 


To  the  end  the  world  may  the  better  take  notice  of  his  Ma- 
jesty's royal  intention  to  observe  the  Act  of  Indempnity  and  Gen- 
eral Pardon  inviolably  for  the  publique  good  and  satisfaction  of 
all  his  subjects,  it  was  this  day  ordered  that  a  copy  in  the  order  of 
this  board  of  the  sth  inst.,  touching  the  illegal  proceedings  in  the 
Isle  of  Man  against  William  Christian,  and  putting  him  to  death 
contrary  to  the  said  Act  of  General  Pardon,  be  sent  unto  his  Ma- 
jesty's printer,  who  is  commanded  forthwith  to  print  the  same  in 
the  English  letters,  in  folio,  in  such  manner  as  Acts  of  Parliament 
are  usually  printed,  and  his  Majesty's  arms  prefixed. 

Richard  Browne. 


NOTES 

Note  i,  p.  59 

The  attempt  to  contrast  the  manners  of  the  jovial  Cavaliers  and 
enthusiastic,  yet  firm  and  courageous,  Puritans  was  partly  taken 
from  a  hint  of  Shadwell,  who  sketched  several  scenes  of  humour 
with  great  force,  although  they  hung  heavy  on  his  pencil  when  he 
attempted  to  finish  them  for  the  stage. 

In  a  dull  play  named  The  Volunteers,  or  The  Siock-Jobbers,  the 
dramatis  personce  present  'Major-General  Blunt,  an  old  Cavalier 
officer,  somewhat  rough  in  speech,  but  very  brave  and  honest,  and 
of  good  understanding,  and  a  good  patriot.'  A  contrast  to  the 
general  is  '  Colonel  Hackwell,  senior,  an  old  Anabaptist  colonel  of 
Cromwell's,  very  stout  and  godly,  but  somewhat  immoral.' 

These  worthies,  so  characterised,  hold  a  dialogue  together,  which 
will  form  a  good  example  of  Shadwell's  power  of  dramatising.  The 
stage  is  filled  by  Major-General  Blunt  and  some  of  his  old  ac- 
quaintance Cavaliers,  and  Hackwell,  the  ancient  Parliamentarian. 

Major-General  Blunt.  Fear  not,  my  old  Cavaliers.  According 
to  your  laudable  customs,  you  shall  be  drunk,  swagger,  and  fight 
over  all  your  battles,  from  Edgehill  to  Brentford.  You  have  not 
forgotten  how  this  gentleman  {points  to  Colonel  Hackwell)  and  his 
demure  psalm-singing  fellows  used  to  drub  us? 

1st  Cavalier.  No,  'gad!  I  felt  'em  once  to  purpose. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  Ah!  a-dod,  in  high-crowned  hats,  collared  bands, 
great  loose  coats,  long  tucks  under  'em,  and  calves-leather  boots; 
they  used  to  sing  a  psalm,  fall  on,  and  beat  us  to  the  devil! 

Hackwell,  senior.  In  that  day  we  stood  up  to  the  cause;  and  the 
cause,  the  spiritual  cause,  did  not  suffer  under  our  carnal  weapons, 
but  the  enemy  was  discomfited,  and  lo!  they  used  to  flee  be- 
fore us. 

1st  Cavalier.  Who  would  think  such  a  snivelling,  psalm -sing- 
ing puppy  would  fight?  But  these  godly  fellows  would  lay  about 
'em  as  if  the  devil  were  in  'em. 

Sir  Nicholas.  What  a  filthy,  slovenly  army  was  this!  I  warrant 
you  not  a  weU-dressed  man  among  the  Roundheads. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  But  these  plain  fellows  would  so  thrash  your 
swearing,  drinking,  fine  fellows  in  laced  coats  —  just  such  as  you 

397 


NOTES 

of  the  drawing-room  and  Locket's  fellows  are  now  —  and  so  strip 
them,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  that  after  a  battle  those  saints  looked 
like  the  Israelites  loaden  with  the  Eg>ptian  baggage. 

Uackivell.  \'erily,  we  did  take  the  spoil  and  it  served  us  to  turn 
the  penny,  and  advanced  the  cause  thereby;  we  fought  upon  a 
principle  that  carried  us  through. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  Prithee,  colonel,  we  know  thy  principle  —  't  was 
not  right:  thou  foughtest  against  children's  baptism,  and  not  for 
hberty,  but  who  should  be  your  tyrant;  none  so  zealous  for  Crom- 
well as  thou  wert  then,  nor  such  a  furious  agitator  and  test-man 
as  thou  hast  been  lately. 

Uackwcll,  senior.  Look  you,  Colonel,  we  but  proceeded  in  the 
way  of  liberty  of  worship. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  A-dod,  there  is  something  more  in  it.  This  was 
thy  principle,  colonel  —  Dominion  is  founded  in  grace,  and  the 
righteous  shall  inherit  the  earth.  And,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  thou 
chdst  so;  thou  gottest  three  thousand  pound  a-year  by  fighting 
•  against  the  court,  and  I  lost  a  thousand  by  fighting  for  it.  —  See 
The  Volunteers  or  Stock-jobbers,  Shadwell's  Works,  vol.  rv,  p.  437. 

In  a  former  scene,  Hackwell,  the  old  fanatic  officer,  conceiving 
himself  offended  by  one  of  the  dramatis  personcz,  says,  with  great 
naivete  —  'I  prithee,  friend,  put  me  not  to  use  the  carnal  weapon 
in  my  own  defence.'  Such  are  the  traits  of  phraseology-  with  which 
Shadwell  painted  the  old  Puritan  officers,  many  of  whom  he  — 
no  mean  observer  of  human  nature — must  have  known  familiarly. 

Note  2,  p.  62 

The  concealment  and  discovery  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  is 
taken  from  a  picturesque  account  of  a  similar  event,  described  to 
me  by  the  person  by  whom  it  was  witnessed  in  childhood.  This 
lady,  by  name  Mrs.  Margaret  Swinton,  and  a  daughter  of  that 
ancient  house,  was  a  sister  of  my  maternal  grandmother,  and  of 
course  my  grand-aunt.  She  was,  as  often  happens  on  such  occa- 
sions, our  constant  resource  in  sickness,  or  when  we  tired  of  noisy 
play,  and  closed  around  her  to  listen  to  her  tales.  As  she  might  be 
supposed  to  look  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  the 
fund  which  supplied  us  with  amusement  often  related  to  events 
of  that  period.  I  may  here  notice  that  she  told  me  the  unhappy 
story  of  the  Bride  of  Lammcrmoor,  being  nearly  related  to  the  Lord 
President,  whose  daughter  was  the  heroine  of  that  melancholy 
tragedy. 

398 


NOTES 

The  present  tale,  though  of  a  different  character,  was  also  suffi- 
ciently striking,  when  told  by  an  eyewitness.  Aunt  Margaret  was, 
I  suppose,  seven  or  eight  years  old  when  residing  in  the  old  man- 
sion-house of  Swinton,  and  already  displayed  the  firmness  and 
sagacity  which  distinguished  her  through  life.  Being  one  of  a  large 
family,  she  was,  owing  to  slight  indisposition,  left  at  home  one  day 
when  the  rest  of  the  family  went  to  church  with  Sir  John  and  Lady 
Swinton,  their  parents.  Before  leaving  the  little  invalid,  she  was 
strictly  enjoined  not  to  go  into  the  parlour  where  the  elder  party 
had  breakfasted.  But  when  she  found  herself  alone  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  house,  the  spirit  of  her  great  ancestress  Eve  took  posses- 
sion of  my  aunt  Margaret,  and  forth  she  went  to  examine  the  par- 
lour in  question.  She  was  struck  with  admiration  and  fear  at  what 
she  saw  there.  A  lady,  'beautiful  exceedingly,'  was  seated  by  the 
breakfast-table,  and  employed  in  washing  the  dishes  which  had 
been  used.  Little  Margaret  would  have  had  no  doubt  in  account- 
ing this  singular  vision  an  emanation  from  the  angelical  world, 
but  for  her  employment,  which  she  could  not  so  easily  reconcile 
to  her  ideas  of  angels. 

The  lady,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  called  the  astonished 
child  to  her,  fondled  her  with  much  tenderness,  and  judiciously 
avoiding  to  render  the  necessity  of  secrecy  too  severe,  she  told  the 
girl  she  must  not  let  any  one  except  her  mother  know  that  she  had 
seen  her.  Having  allowed  this  escape-valve  for  the  benefit  of  her 
curiosity,  the  mysterious  stranger  desired  the  little  girl  to  look 
from  the  window  of  the  parlour  to  see  if  her  mother  was  returning 
from  church.  When  she  turned  her  head  again,  the  fair  vision  had 
vanished,  but  by  what  means  Miss  Margaret  was  unable  to  form 
a  conjecture. 

Long  watched,  and  eagerly  waited  for,  the  Lady  Swinton  at  last 
returned  from  church,  and  her  daughter  lost  no  time  in  telling 
her  extraordinary  tale.  'You  are  a  very  sensible  girl,  Peggy,'  an- 
swered her  mother, '  for  if  you  had  spoken  of  that  poor  lady  to  any 
one  but  me,  it  might  have  cost  her  her  life.  But  now  I  will  not  be 
afraid  of  trusting  you  with  any  secret,  and  I  will  show  you  where 
the  poor  lady  lives.'  In  fact  she  introduced  her  to  a  concealed 
apartment  opening  by  a  sUding  panel  from  the  parlour,  and  showed 
her  the  lady  in  the  hiding-place  which  she  inhabited.  It  may  be 
said,  in  passing,  that  there  were  few  Scottish  houses  belonging  to 
families  of  rank  which  had  not  such  contrivances,  the  political  in- 
cidents of  the  times  often  calling  them  into  occupation. 
The  history  of  the  lady  of  the  closet  was  both  melancholy  and 

399 


NOTES 

bloody,  and  though  I  have  seen  various  accounts  of  the  story,  I  do 
not  pretend  to  distinguish  the  right  edition.  She  was  a  young 
woman  of  extreme  beauty,  who  had  been  married  to  an  old  man, 
a  writer,  named  MacFarlane.  Her  situation,  and  perhaps  her 
manners,  gave  courage  to  some  who  desired  to  be  accounted  her 
suitors.  Among  them  was  a  young  EngUshman,  named  Cayley, 
who  was  a  commissioner  of  Government  upon  the  estates  forfeited 
in  the  rebeUion  of  1715.  In  1716,  Mr.  Cayley  visited  this  lady  in 
her  lodgings,  when  they  quarreled,  either  on  account  of  his  having 
offered  her  some  violence,  or,  as  another  account  said,  because 
she  reproached  him  with  having  boasted  of  former  favours.  It 
ended  in  her  seizing  upon  a  pair  of  pistols,  which  lay  loaded  in  a 
closet,  her  husband  intending  to  take  them  with  him  on  a  journey. 
The  gallant  commissioner  approached  with  an  air  of  drollery, 
saying,  'What,  madam,  do  you  intend  to  perform  a  comedy?' 
'You  shall  find  it  a  tragedy,'  answered  the  lady;  and  fired  both 
pistols,  by  which  Commissioner  Cayley  fell  dead. 

She  fled,  and  remained  concealed  for  a  certain  time.  Her  claim 
of  refuge  in  Swinton  House,  I  do  not  know;  it  arose  probably  from 
some  of  the  indescribable  genealogical  filaments  which  connect 
Scottish  families.  A  very  small  cause  would  even  at  any  time  have 
been  a  reason  for  interfering  between  an  individual  and  the  law. 

Whatever  were  the  circumstances  of  Mrs.  MacFarlane's  case, 
it  is  certain  that  she  returned,  and  lived  and  died  in  Edinburgh, 
without  being  brought  to  trial.  Indeed,  considering  the  times, 
there  was  no  great  wonder;  for,  to  one  strong  party,  the  death  of 
an  English  commissioner  was  not  a  circumstance  to  require  much 
apology.  The  Swintons,  however,  could  not  be  of  that  opinion, 
the  family  being  of  Presbyterian  and  Whig  principles. 


Note  3,  p.  77 

The  reader  will  find,  in  an  Appendix  to  the  Introduction,  an 
account  of  this  tragedy,  as  related  by  one  who  may  be  said  to 
favour  the  sufferer.  It  must  be  admitted,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
Captain  Christian's  trial  and  execution  were  conducted  according 
to  the  laws  of  the  island.  He  was  tried  in  all  due  form  by  the 
Dempster,  or  chief  judge,  then  named  Norris,  the  keys  of  the 
island,  and  other  constituted  authorities,  making  what  is  called  a 
Tinwald  court.  This  word,  yet  retained  in  many  parts  of  Scot- 
land, signifies  vallis  negotii,  and  is  applied  to  those  artificial 
mounds  which  were  in  ancient  times  assigned  to  the  meeting  of 

400 


NOTES 

the  inhabitants  for  holding  their  comitia.  It  was  pleaded  that  the 
articles  of  accusation  against  Christian  were  found  fully  relevant, 
and  as  he  refused  to  plead  at  the  bar,  that  he  was,  according  to  the 
laws  of  Man,  most  justly  sentenced  to  death.  It  was  also  stated 
that  full  time  was  left  for  appeal  to  England,  as  he  was  appre- 
hended about  the  end  of  September,  and  not  executed  until  the 
2d  January,  1662.  These  defences  were  made  for  the  various  ofiS- 
cers  of  the  Isle  of  Man  called  before  the  privy  council  on  account 
of  Christian's  death,  and  supported  with  many  quotations  from 
the  laws  of  the  island,  and  appear  to  have  been  received  as  a  suflS- 
cient  defence  for  their  share  in  those  proceedings. 

I  am  obliged  to  the  present  reverend  vicar  of  Malew  for  a  cer- 
tified extract  to  the  following  effect:  'Malew  Burials,  a.d.  1662. 
Mr.  William  Christian  of  Ronaldswing,  late  receiver,  was  shot  to 
death  at  Hange  Hall,  the  2d  January.  He  died  most  penitently 
and  couradgeously,  made  a  good  end,  prayed  earnestly,  made  an 
excellent  speech,  and  the  next  day  was  buried  in  the  chancell  of 
Kirk  Malew.' 

It  is  certain  that  the  death  of  William  Christian  made'  a  very 
deep  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  islanders,  and  a  Mr.  Cal- 
cell  or  Colquit  was  much  blamed  on  the  occasion.  Two  lesser  inci- 
dents are  worth  preservation  as  occurring  at  his  execution.  The 
place  on  which  he  stood  was  covered  with  white  blankets,  that  his 
blood  might  not  fall  on  the  ground;  and,  secondly,  the  precaution 
proved  unnecessary,  for,  the  musket  wounds  bleeding  internally, 
there  was  no  outward  effusion  of  blood. 

Many  on  the  island  deny  Christian's  guilt  altogether,  like  his 
respectable  descendant,  the  present  dempster;  but  there  are 
others,  and  those  men  of  judgment  and  respectability,  who  are  so 
far  of  a  different  opinion,  that  they  only  allow  the  execution  to 
have  been  wrong  in  so  far  as  the  culprit  died  by  a  military  rather 
than  a  civil  death.  I  wUlingly  drop  the  veil  over  a  transaction 
which  took  pla.ce  flagranlibus  odiis  at  the  conclusion  of  a  civil  war, 
when  Revenge  at  least  was  awake  if  Justice  slept. 

Note  4,  p.  86 

This  peculiar  collocation  of  apartments  may  be  seen  at  Haddon 
Hall,  Derbyshire,  once  a  seat  of  the  Vernons,  where,  in  the  lady's 
pew  in  the  chapel,  there  is  a  sort  of  scuttle,  which  opens  into  the 
kitchen,  so  that  the  good  lady  could  ever  and  anon,  without  much 
interruption  of  her  religious  duties,  give  an  eye  that  the  roast- 

•  27  401 


:ANTA  ^mim  STME  OGllEiE  LIlAfi 


NOTES 

meat  was  not  permitted  to  burn,  and  that  the  turn-broche  did  hia 
duty. 

Note  s,  p.  91 

Even  down  to  a  later  period  than  that  in  which  the  tale  is  laid, 
the  ladies  of  distinction  had  for  their  pages  young  gentlemen  of 
distinguished  rank,  whose  education  proceeded  within  the  family 
of  their  patroness.  Anne  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  and  Monmouth, 
who  in  several  respects  laid  claim  to  the  honours  due  to  royal 
blood,  was,  I  believe,  the  last  person  of  rank  who  kept  up  this  old 
custom.  A  general  officer  distinguished  in  the  American  war  was 
bred  up  as  a  page  in  her  family.  At  present  the  youths  whom  we 
sometimes  see  in  the  capacity  of  pages  of  great  ladies  are,  I  be- 
lieve, mere  lacquies. 

Note  6,  p.  127 

The  ejection  of  the  Presbyterian  clergy  took  place  on  St.  Bar- 
tholomew's day,  thence  called  Black  Bartholomew.  Two  thousand 
Presbyterian  pastors  were  on  that  day  displaced  and  silenced 
throughout  England.  The  preachers  indeed  had  only  the  alterna- 
tive to  renounce  their  principles  or  subscribe  certain  articles  of 
uniformity.  And  to  their  great  honour,  Calamy,  Baxter,  and  Rey- 
nolds refused  bishoprics,  and  many  other  Presbyterian  ministers 
declined  deaneries  and  other  preferments,  and  submitted  to  de- 
privation in  preference. 

Note  7,  p.  163 

It  is  naturally  to  be  supposed  that  the  twenty  years'  triumph 
of  the  Puritans,  and  the  violence  towards  the  Malignants,  as  they 
were  wont  to  call  the  Cavaliers,  had  generated  many  grudges  and 
feuds  in  almost  every  neighbourhood,  which  the  victorious  Roy- 
aUsts  failed  not  to  act  upon,  so  soon  as  the  Restoration  gave  them 
a  superiority.  Captain  Hodgson,  a  Parliamentary  officer  who 
wrote  his  own  Memoirs,  gives  us  many  instances  of  this.  I  shall 
somewhat  compress  his  long-winded  account  of  his  sufferings. 

*It  was  after  the  King's  return  to  London,  one  night  a  parcel 
of  armed  men  comes  to  my  house  at  Coalley  Hall,  near  Halifax, 
and  in  an  unseasonable  hour  in  the  night  demands  entrance,  and 
my  servants  within  having  some  discourse  with  them  on  the  out- 
side, they  gave  threatening  language,  and  put  their  pistols  in  at 
the  windows.  My  wife  being  with  child,  I  ordered  the  doors  to  be 
opened,  and  they  came  in.  After  they  had  presented  a  pistol  to 

402 


NOTES 

my  breast  they  showed  me  their  authority  to  apprehend  me,' 
imder  the  hands  and  seals  of  two  knights  and  deputy-lieutenants, 
'for  speaking  treasonable  words  against  the  King.'  The  ci-devant 
captain  was  conveyed  to  prison  at  Bradford,  and  bail  refused. 
His  prosecutor  proved  to  be  one  Daniel  Lyster,  brother  to  the 
peace-officer  who  headed  the  troop  for  his  apprehension.   It  seems 
that  the  prisoner  Hodgson  had  once  in  former  days  bound  over 
to  his  good  behaviour  this  Daniel  Lyster,  then  accused  of  adul- 
tery and  other  debauched  habits.   'After  the  King  came  in,'  says 
Hodgson,  'this  man  meets  me,  and  demands  the  names  of  those 
that  informed  against  him,  and  a  copy  of  their  information.  I  told 
him  that  the  business  was  over,  and  that  it  was  not  seasonable  to 
rip  up  old  troubles,  on  which  he  threatened  me,  and  said  he  would 
have  them.   "The  sun,"  he  said,  "now  shines  on  our  side  of  the 
hedge."'    Such  being  his  accuser,  Hodgson  was  tried  for  having 
said,  'There  is  a  crown  provided,  but  the  King  will  never  wear  it'; 
to  which  was  added,  that  he  alleged  he  had  'never  been  a  turn- 
coat —  never  took  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  never  would  do.' 
Little  or  no  part  of  the  charge  was  proved,  while  on  the  contrary 
it  was  shown  that  the  prosecutor  had  been  heard  to  say,  that  if 
times  ever  changed,  he  would  sit  on  Hodgson's  skirts.    In  fine, 
Hodgson  escaped  for  five  months'  imprisonment,  about  thirty 
pounds  expenses,  and  the  necessity  of  swallowing  the  oath  of 
allegiance,  which  seems  to  have  been  a  bitter  pill. 

About  the  middle  of  June  1662,  Captain  Hodgson  was  again 
arrested  in  a  summary  manner  by  one  Peebles,  an  attorney,  quar- 
termaster to  Sir  John  Armitage's  troop  of  horse-militia,  with 
about  twelve  other  Cavaliers,  who  used  him  rudely,  called  him 
rebel  and  traitor,  and  seemed  to  wish  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him, 
upon  which  he  demanded  to  see  their  authority.  Peebles  laid  his 
hand  on  his  sword,  and  told  him  it  was  better  authority  than  any 
ever  granted  by  Cromwell.  They  suffered  him,  however,  to  de- 
part, which  he  partly  owed  to  the  valour  of  his  landlady,  who  sate 
down  at  the  table-end  betwixt  him  and  danger,  and  kept  his  an- 
tagonists at  some  distance. 

He  was  afterwards  accused  of  having  assembled  some  troopers, 
from  his  having  been  accidentally  seen  riding  with  a  soldier,  from 
which  accusation  he  also  escaped.  Finally,  he  fell  under  suspicion 
of  being  concerned  in  a  plot,  of  which  the  scene  is  called  Sowerby. 
On  this  charge  he  is  not  explicit,  but  the  grand  jury  found  the  bill 
ignoramus. 

After  this  the  poor  Roundhead  was  again  repeatedly  accused 

403 


NOTES 

and  arrested;  and  the  last  occasion  we  shall  notice  occurred  on 
nth  September  1662,  when  he  was  disarmed  by  his  old  friend 
Mr.  Peebles,  at  the  head  of  a  party.  He  demanded  to  see  the  war- 
rant; on  which  he  was  answered  as  formerly,  by  the  quartermaster 
laying  his  hand  on  his  sword-hilt,  saying  it  was  a  better  order  than 
Oliver  used  to  give.  At  length  a  warrant  was  produced,  and  Hodg- 
son submitting  to  the  search,  they  took  from  his  dwelling-house 
better  than  £20  value  in  fowling-pieces,  pistols,  muskets,  carbines, 
and  such-like.  A  quarrel  ensued  about  his  buff  coat,  which  Hodg- 
son refused  to  deliver,  alleging  they  had  no  authority  to  take  his 
wearing-apparel.  To  this  he  remained  constant,  even  upon  the 
personal  threats  of  Sir  John  Armitage,  who  called  him  rebel  and 
traitor,  and  said, '  If  I  did  not  send  the  buff  coat  with  all  speed,  he 
would  commit  me  to  jail.'  'I  told  him,'  says  Hodgson,  'I  was  no 
rebel,  and  he  did  not  well  to  call  me  so  before  these  soldiers  and 
gentlemen,  to  make  me  the  mark  for  every  one  to  shoot  at.'  The 
buff  coat  was  then  peremptorily  demanded,  and  at  length  seized 
by  open  force.  One  of  Sir  John  Armitage's  brethren  wore  it  for 
many  years,  after  making  good  Prince  Henry's  observation,  that 
a  buff  jerkin  is  a  most  sweet  robe  of  durance.  An  agent  of  Sir 
John's  came  to  compound  for  this  garment  of  proof.  Hodgson 
says  he  would  not  have  taken  ten  pounds  for  it.  Sir  John  would 
have  given  about  four,  but  insisting  on  the  owner's  receipt  for  the 
money,  which  its  former  possessor  was  unwilling  to  grant,  the 
Tory  magistrate  kept  both  sides,  and  Hodgson  never  received 
satisfaction. 

We  will  not  prosecute  Mr.  Hodgson's  tale  of  petty  grievances 
any  further.  Enough  has  been  said  to  display  the  melancholy 
picture  of  the  country  after  the  Civil  War,  and  to  show  the  state 
of  irritability  and  oppression  which  must  have  extended  itself  over 
the  face  of  England,  since  there  was  scarcely  a  county  in  which 
battles  had  not  been  fought,  and  deep  injuries  sustained,  during 
the  ascendency  of  the  Roundheads,  which  were  not  afterwards 
retaliated  by  the  vengeance  of  the  Cavaliers. 


Note  8,  p.  167 

Waldron  mentions  the  two  popular  festivities  in  the  Isle  of  Man 
which  are  alluded  to  in  the  text,  and  vestiges  of  them  are,  I  be- 
lieve, still  to  be  traced  in  this  singular  island.  The  Contest  of 
Winter  and  Summer  seems  directly  derived  from  the  Scandinavi- 
ans, long  the  masters  in  Man,  as  Oiaus  Magnus  mentions  a  simi- 

404, 


NOTES 

lar  festival  among  the  Northern  nations.  On  the  first  of  May, 
he  says, '  the  country  is  divided  into  two  bands,  the  captain  of  one 
of  which  hath  the  name  and  appearance  of  Winter,  is  clothed  in 
skins  of  beasts,  and  he  and  his  band  armed  with  fire  forks.  They 
fling  about  ashes  by  way  of  prolonging  the  reign  of  Winter;  while 
another  band,  whose  captain  is  called  Florro,  represent  Spring, 
with  green  boughs,  such  as  the  season  offers.  These  parties  skir- 
mish in  sport,  and  the  mimic  contest  concludes  with  a  general 
feast.'  —  History  of  the  Northern  Nations,  by  Olaus,  Book  xv, 
chap.  II. 
Waldron  gives  an  account  of  a  festival  in  Wales  exactly  similar: 
'In  almost  all  the  great  parishes,  they  choose  from  among  the 
daughters  of  the  most  wealthy  farmers  a  young  maid  for  the 
Queen  of  May.  She  is  drest  in  the  gayest  and  best  manner  they 
can,  and  is  attended  by  about  twenty  others,  who  are  called  maids 
of  honour.  She  has  also  a  young  man,  who  is  her  captain,  and  has 
imder  his  command  a  good  number  of  inferior  officers.  In  oppo- 
sition to  her  is  the  Queen  of  Winter,  who  is  a  man  drest  in 
woman's  clothes,  with  woollen  hoods,  fur  tippets,  and  loaded  with 
the  warmest  and  heaviest  habits,  one  upon  another;  in  the  same 
manner  are  those  who  represent  her  attendants  drest;  nor  is  she 
without  a  captain  and  troop  for  her  defence.  Both  being  equipt 
as  proper  emblems  of  the  beauty  of  the  spring  and  the  deformity 
of  the  winter,  they  set  forth  from  their  respective  quarters,  the  one 
preceded  by  violins  and  flutes,  the  other  with  the  rough  music  of 
the  tongs  and  cleavers.  Both  companies  march  till  they  meet  on 
a  common,  and  then  their  trains  engage  in  a  mock  battle.  If  the 
Queen  of  Winter's  forces  get  the  better,  so  far  as  to  take  the  Queen 
of  May  prisoner,  she  is  ransomed  for  as  much  as  pays  the  expenses 
of  the  day.  After  this  ceremony.  Winter  and  her  company  retire, 
and  divert  themselves  in  a  barn,  and  the  others  remain  on  the 
green,  where,  having  danced  a  considerable  time,  they  conclude 
the  evening  with  a  feast ;  the  queen  at  one  table  with  her  maids, 
the  captain  with  his  troop  at  another.  There  are  seldom  less  than 
fifty  or  sixty  persons  at  each  board,  but  .  .  .  not  more  than  three 
or  four  knives  .  .  .  Christmas  is  ushered  in  with  a  form  much 
less  meaning,  and  infinitely  more  fatiguing.  On  the  24th  of  De- 
cember, towards  evening,  all  the  servants  in  general  have  a  holi- 
day; they  go  not  to  bed  all  night,  but  ramble  about  till  the  bells 
ring  in  all  the  churches,  which  is  at  twelve  o'clock;  prayers  being 
over,  they  go  to  hunt  the  wren,  and  after  having  found  one  of 
these  poor  birds,  they  kill  her,  and  lay  her  on  a  bier  with  the  utmost 

40s 


NOTES 

solemnity,  bringing  her  to  the  parish  church  and  burying  her  with 
a  whimsical  kind  of  solemnity,  singing  dirges  over  her  in  the 
Manks  language,  which  they  call  her  knell;  after  which  Christmas 
begins.  There  is  not  a  barn  unoccupied  the  whole  twelve  days, 
every  parish  hiring  fiddlers  at  the  public  charge;  and  all  the  youth, 
nay,  sometimes  people  well  advanced  in  years,  making  no  scruple 
to  be  among  these  nocturnal  dancers.'  —  Waldron's  Description  of 
the  Isle  of  Man,  folio,  1731. 

With  regard  to  horse-racing  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  I  am  furnished 
with  a  certified  copy  of  the  rules  on  which  that  sport  was  con- 
ducted, under  the  permission  of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  in  which  the 
curious  may  see  that  a  descendant  of  the  unfortunate  Christian 
entered  a  horse  for  the  prize.  I  am  indebted  for  this  curiosity  to 
my  kind  friend,  the  learned  Dr.  Dibdin. 

)  Articles  for  the  plate  which  is  to  be  run  for  in  the  said  island,  being  of  the 
ft  >  value  of  five   pounds  sterling  {the  fashion  included),  given  by  the  Right 

)  Honourable  William  Earl  of  Derby,  Lord  of  the  said  Isle,  etc. 

ist.  The  said  plate  is  to  be  run  for  upon  the  28th  day  of  July,  in  euery  year,  whiles  his 
honour  is  pleased  to  allow  the  same  (being  the  day  of  the  nativity  of  the  Honour- 
able James  Lord  Strange),  except  it  happen  upon  a  Sunday,  and  if  soe,  the  said 
plate  is  to  be  run  for  upon  the  day  following. 

ad.  That  noe  horse,  gelding,  or  mair  shall  be  admitted  to  run  for  the  said  plate,  but 
such  as  was  foaled  within  the  said  island,  or  in  the  Calfe  of  Mann. 

3d.  That  euery  horse,  gelding,  or  mair  that  is  designed  to  run  shall  be  entred  at  or 
before  the  viiijth  day  of  July,  with  his  master's  name  and  his  owne,  if  he  be  gener- 
ally knowne  by  any,  or  els  his  coUour,  and  whether  horse,  mair,  or  gelding,  and 
that  to  be  done  at  the  x  comprs.  ofl'ice,  by  the  cleark  of  the  rolls  for  the  time  being. 

4<A.  That  euery  person  that  puts  in  either  horse,  mair,  or  gelding,  shall,  at  the  time 
of  their  entring,  depositt  the  sume  of  hue  shill.  apiece  into  the  hands  of  the  said 
clerk  of  the  rolls,  which  is  to  goe  towards  the  augmenting  of  the  plate  for  the  year 
following,  besides  one  shill.  apiece  to  be  giuen  by  them  to  the  said  clerk  of  the  rolls, 
for  entering  their  names  and  engrossing  these  articles. 

Sth.  That  euery  horse,  mair,  or  gelding  shall  carry  horseman's  weight,  that  is  to  say, 
ten  stone  weight,  at  fourteen  pounds  to  each  stone,  besides  sadle  and  bridle. 

6th.  That  euery  horse,  mair,  or  gelding  shall  haue  a  person  for  its  tryer,  to  be  named 
by  the  owner  of  the  said  horse,  mail,  or  gelding,  which  tryers  are  to  have  the  com- 
mand of  the  scales  and  weights,  and  to  see  that  euery  rider  doe  carry  full  weight, 
according  as  is  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  article,  and  especially  that  the  winning 
rider  be  soe  with  the  usual  allowance  of  one  pound  for     . 

jth.  That  a  person  be  assigned  by  the  tryers  to  start  the  runinge  horses,  who  are  to 
run  for  the  said  plate,  betwixt  the  bowers  of  one  and  three  of  the  clock  in  the  after- 
noon. 

&th.  That  euery  rider  shall  leave  the  two  first  powles  which  are  sett  upp  in  Macybraes 
close,  in  this  manner  following,  that  is  to  say,  the  first  of  the  said  two  powles  upon 
his  right  hand,  and  the  other  upon  his  left  hand;  and  the  two  powles  by  the  rockes 
are  to  be  left  upon  the  left  hand  likewise;  and  the  fifth  powle,  which  is  sett  up  at 
the  lower  end  of  the  Conney-warren,  to  be  left  alsoe  upon  the  left  hand,  and  soe 
the  turning  powle  next  to  VVm.  Looreyes  house  to  be  left  in  like  maner  upon  the 
left  hand,  and  the  other  two  powles,  leading  to  the  ending  powle,  to  be  left  upon 
the  right  hand;  all  which  powles  are  to  be  left  by  the  riders  as  aforesaid,  excepting 
only  the  distance-powle,  which  may  be  rid  on  either  hand,  at  the  discretion  of  the 
rider,  etc.  etc.  etc. 

406 


NOTES 

July  Z4th,  1687. 
The  names  of  the  persons  who  have  entered  their  horses  to  run  fgr  the  within  plate 
for  this  present  year,  1687. 

Ro.  Heywood,  Esq.,  Governor  of  this  Isle,  hath  entered  ane  bay  gelding 
called  by  the  name  of  Loggerhead,  and  hath  deposited  towards  the 
augmenting  of  the  plate  for  the  next  year £  00     05     00 

Captain  Tho.  Hudlston  hath  entered  one  white  gelding,  called  Snowball, 
and  hath  depositted 00    05     00 

Mr.  William  Faigler  hath  entred  his  gray  gelding,  called  the  Gray  Car- 

raine,  and  depositted 00     05     00 

Mr.  Nicho.  Williams  hath  entred  one  gray  stone -horse,  called  the  York- 
shire Gray  and  depositted 00     05     00 

Mr.  Demster  Christian  hath  entred  one  gelding,  called  the  Dapple 
Gray,  and  hath  depossitted 00    05    00 

i&th  July  1687. 
Memorandum, 

That  this  day  the  above  plate  was  run  for  by  the  foremencioned  horses,  and  the  same 
was  fairly  won  by  the  right  worshipful  governor's  horse  at  the  two  first  heates. 

17'^  August  1688. 
Received  this  day  the  above  ,  which  I  am  to  pay  to  my  master  to 

augment  ye  plate  by  me,  John  Wood. 

It  is  my  good-will  and  pleasure  y'  y*  2  prizes  formerly  granted  (by  me)  for  hors 
runing  and  shouting  shall  continue  as  they  did,  to  be  run,  or  shot  for,  and  soe  to  con- 
tinue dureing  my  good-will  and  pleasure.  Given  under  my  hand  at  Lathom,  y^  12th  of 
July  1669. 

Derby. 
To  my  governor's  deputy-governor  and  y*  rest  of 
my  ofiicers  in  my  Isle  of  Man. 


Note  9,  p.  174 

I  am  told  that  a  portrait  of  the  unfortunate  William  Christian 
is  still  preserved  in  the  family  of  Watterson  of  Ballnahow  of  Kirk 
Church,  Rushin.  William  Dhone  is  dressed  in  a  green  coat  with- 
out collar  or  cape,  after  the  fashion  of  those  Puritanic  times,  with 
the  head  in  a  close-cropt  wig,  resembling  the  bishop's  peruke  of 
the  present  day.  The  countenance  is  youthful  and  well  looking, 
very  unlike  the  expression  of  foreboding  melancholy.  I  have  so 
far  taken  advantage  of  this  criticism  as  to  bring  my  ideal  portrait 
nearer  to  the  complexion  at  least  of  the  fair-haired  William 
Dhone. 

Note  10,  p.  230 

There  is  a  common  tradition  in  America,  that  this  person,  who 
was  never  heard  of  after  the  Restoration,  fled  to  Massachusetts, 
and,  living  for  some  years  concealed  in  that  province,  finally 
closed  his  days  there.  The  remarkable  and  beautiful  story  of  his 
having  suddenly  emerged  from  his  place  of  concealment,  and, 

407 


NOTES 

placing  himself  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  settlers,  shown  them  the 
mode  of  acquiring  a  victory,  which  they  were  on  the  point  of  yield- 
ing to  the  Indians,  is  also  told,  and  in  all  probability  truly.  I  have 
seen  the  whole  tradition  commented  upon  at  large  in  a  late  North 
American  publication,  which  goes  so  far  as  to  ascertain  the  ob- 
scure grave  to  which  the  remains  of  Whalley  were  secretly  com- 
mitted. This  singular  story  has  lately  afforded  the  justly  cel- 
ebrated American  novelist,  Air.  Cooper,  the  materials  from  which 
he  has  compiled  one  of  those  impressive  narratives  of  the  aborig- 
inal inhabitants  of  the  Transatlantic  woods  and  the  hardy  Europ- 
eans by  whom  they  were  invaded  and  dispossessed. 


Note  n,  p.  234 

The  Author  has  never  seen  this  ancient  fortress,  which  has  in 
its  circuit  so  much  that  is  fascinating  to  the  antiquary,  Waldron 
has  given  the  following  description,  which  is  perhaps  somewhat 
exaggerated:  — 

'Peel,  or  Pile-Town,  is  so  called  from  its  garrison  and  castle; 
though  in  effect  the  castle  cannot  properly  be  said  to  be  in  the 
town,  an  arm  of  the  sea  running  between  them,  which  in  high 
tides  would  be  deep  enough  to  bear  a  ship  of  forty  or  fifty  ton, 
though  sometimes  quite  drained  of  salt  water;  but  then  it  is  sup- 
plied with  fresh  by  a  river  which  runs  from  Kirk  Jarmyn  Moun- 
tains, and  empties  itself  into  the  sea.  This  castle,  for  its  situation, 
antiquity,  strength,  and  beauty,  might  justly  come  in  for  one  of 
the  wonders  of  the  world.  Art  and  nature  seem  to  have  vied  with 
each  other  in  the  model,  nor  ought  the  most  minute  particular 
to  escape  observation.  As  to  its  situation,  it  is  built  upon  the 
top  of  a  huge  rock,  which  rears  itself  a  stupendous  height  above 
the  sea,  with  which,  as  I  said  before,  it  is  surrounded.  And 
also  by  natural  fortifications  of  other  lesser  rocks,  which  render  it 
inaccessible  but  by  passing  that  little  arm  of  the  sea  which  divides 
it  from  the  town ;  this  you  may  do  in  a  small  boat ;  and  the  natives, 
tucking  up  their  clothes  under  their  arms,  and  plucking  oS  their 
shoes  and  stockings,  frequently  wade  it  in  low  tides,  \^^len  you 
arrive  at  the  foot  of  the  rock,  you  ascend  about  some  threescore 
steps,  which  are  cut  out  of  it  to  the  first  wall,  which  is  immensely 
thick  and  high,  and  built  of  a  very  durable  and  bright  stone, 
though  not  of  the  same  sort  with  that  of  Castle  Russin  in  Castle 
Town;  and  has  on  it  four  little  houses,  or  watch-towers,  which 
overlook  the  sea.  The  gates  are  wood,  but  most  curiously  arched, 

408 


NOTES 

carved,  and  adorned  with  pilasters.  Having  passed  the  first,  you 
have  other  stairs  of  near  half  the  number  with  the  former  to 
mount,  before  you  come  at  the  second  wall,  which,  as  well  as  the 
other,  is  full  of  port-holes  for  cannon,  which  are  planted  on  stone 
crosses  on  a  third  wall.  Being  entered,  you  fmd  yourself  in  a  wide 
plain,  in  the  midst  of  which  stands  the  castle,  encompassed  by 
four  churches,  three  of  which  time  has  so  much  decayed  that  there 
is  little  remaining,  besides  the  walls,  and  some  few  tombs,  which 
seem  to  have  been  erected  with  so  much  care  as  to  perpetuate  the 
memory  of  those  buried  in  them  till  the  final  dissolution  of  all 
things.  The  fourth  is  kept  a  Httle  better  in  repair;  but  not  so 
much  for  its  own  sake,  though  it  has  been  the  most  magnificent 
of  them  all,  as  for  a  chapel  within  it,  which  is  appropriated  to  the 
use  of  the  bishop,  and  has  under  it  a  prison,  or  rather  dungeon, 
for  those  offenders  who  are  so  miserable  as  to  incur  the  spiritual 
censure.  This  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  dreadful  places  that 
imagination  can  form.  The  sea  runs  under  it  through  the  hollows 
of  the  rock  with  such  a  continual  roar,  that  you  would  think  it 
were  every  moment  breaking  in  upon  you,  and  over  it  are  the 
vaults  for  burying  the  dead.  The  stairs  descending  to  this  place 
of  terrors  are  not  above  thirty,  but  so  steep  and  narrow  that  they 
are  very  difficult  to  go  down,  a  child  of  eight  or  nine  years  old  not 
being  able  to  pass  them  but  sideways.  Within  it  are  thirteen  pil- 
lars, on  which  the  whole  chapel  is  supported.  They  have  a  super- 
stition, that  whatsoever  stranger  goes  to  see  this  cavern  out  of 
curiosity,  and  omits  to  count  the  pillars,  shall  do  something  to 
occasion  being  confined  there.  There  are  places  for  penance  also 
under  all  the  other  churches,  containing  several  very  dark  and 
horrid  cells.  Some  have  nothing  in  them  either  to  sit  or  lie  down 
on,  others  a  small  piece  of  brickwork;  some  are  lower  and  more 
dark  than  others;  but  all  of  them,  in  my  opinion,  dreadful  enough 
for  almost  any  crime  humanity  is  capable  of  being  guilty  of; 
though  't  is  supposed  they  were  built  with  different  degrees  of 
horror,  that  the  punishment  might  be  proportionate  to  the  faults 
of  those  wretches  who  were  to  be  confined  in  them.  These  have 
never  been  made  use  of  since  the  times  of  Popery;  but  that  under 
the  bishop's  chapel  is  the  common  and  only  prison  for  all  offences 
in  the  spiritual  court,  and  to  that  the  delinquents  are  sentenced. 
But  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  permit  them  to  suffer  their  con- 
finement in  the  castle,  it  being  morally  impossible  for  the  strong- 
est constitution  to  sustain  the  damps  and  noisomeness  of  the 
cavern  even  for  a  few  hours,  much  less  for  months  and  years,  as 

409 


NOTES 

is  the  punishment  sometimes  allotted.  But  I  shall  speak  hereafter 
more  fully  of  the  severity  of  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction.  'T  is 
certain  that  there  have  been  very  great  architects  in  this  island; 
for  the  noble  monuments  in  this  church,  which  is  kept  in  repair, 
and  indeed  the  ruins  of  the  others  also,  show  the  builders  to  be 
masters  of  all  the  orders  in  that  art,  though  the  great  numbers  of 
Doric  pillars  prove  them  to  be  chiefl)^  admirers  of  that.  Nor  are 
the  epitaphs  and  inscriptions  on  the  tombstones  less  worthy  of  re- 
mark; the  various  languages  in  which  they  are  engraved  testify 
by  what  a  diversity  of  nations  this  little  spot  of  earth  has  been 
possessed.  Though  time  has  defaced  too  many  of  the  letters  to 
render  the  remainder  intelligible,  yet  you  may  easily  perceive 
fragments  of  the  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  Arabian,  Saxon,  Scotch, 
and  Irish  characters;  some  dates,  yet  visible,  declare  they  were 
written  before  the  coming  of  Christ;  and,  indeed,  if  one  considers 
the  walls,  the  thickness  of  them,  and  the  durableness  of  the  stone 
of  which  they  are  composed,  one  must  be  sensible  that  a  great 
number  of  centuries  must  pass  before  such  strong  workmanship 
could  be  reduced  to  the  condition  it  now  is.  These  churches, 
therefore,  were  doubtless  once  the  temples  of  pagan  deities, 
though  since  consecrated  to  the  worship  of  the  true  Divinity;  and 
what  confirms  me  more  strongly  in  this  conjecture  is,  that  there 
is  still  a  part  of  one  remaining,  where  stands  a  large  stone  directly 
in  form  and  manner  like  the  triposes,  which  in  those  days  of 
ignorance,  the  priests  stood  upon,  to  deliver  their  fabulous  oracles. 
Through  one  of  these  old  churches,  there  was  formerly  a  passage 
to  the  apartment  belonging  to  the  captain  of  the  guard,  but  is 
now  closed  up.  The  reason  they  give  you  for  it  is  a  pretty  odd 
one;  but  as  I  think  it  not  sufficient  satisfaction  to  my  curious  reader 
to  acquaint  him  with  what  sort  of  buildings  this  island  affords, 
without  letting  him  know  also  what  traditions  are  concerning 
them,  I  shall  have  Httle  regard  to  the  censure  of  those  critics  who 
find  fault  with  everything  out  of  the  common  road;  and  in  this, 
as  well  as  in  all  other  places  where  it  falls  in  my  way,  shall  make  it 
my  endeavour  to  lead  him  into  the  humours  and  very  souls  of  the 
Manks  people.  They  say,  that  an  apparition,  called  in  their 
language  the  Mauthe  Doog,  in  the  shape  of  a  large  black  spaniel 
with  curled  shaggy  hair,  was  used  to  haunt  Peel  Castle,  and  has 
been  frequently  seen  in  every  room,  but  particularly  in  the  guard- 
chamber,  where,  as  soon  as  candles  were  lighted,  it  came  and  lay 
down  before  the  fire,  in  presence  of  all  the  soldiers,  who,  at  length, 
by  being  so  much  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  it,  lost  great  part  of 

410 


NOTES 

the  terror  they  were  seized  with  at  its  first  appearance.  They 
still,  however,  retained  a  certain  awe,  as  believing  it  was  an  evil 
spirit  which  only  waited  permission  to  do  them  hurt,  and  for 
that  reason  forbore  swearing  and  all  profane  discourse  while  in 
its  company.  But  though  they  endured  the  shock  of  such  a  guest 
when  altogether  in  a  body,  none  cared  to  be  left  alone  with  it. 
It  being  the  custom,  therefore,  for  one  of  the  soldiers  to  lock  the 
gates  of  the  castle  at  a  certain  hour,  and  carry  the  keys  to  the 
captain,  to  whose  apartment,  as  I  said  before,  the  way  led  through 
a  church,  they  agreed  among  themselves,  that  whoever  was  to 
succeed  the  ensuing  night,  his  fellow  in  this  errand  should  accom- 
pany him  that  went  first,  and  by  this  means,  no  man  would  be 
exposed  singly  to  the  danger;  for  I  forgot  to  mention  that  the 
Mauthe  Doog  was  always  seen  to  come  from  that  passage  at  the 
close  of  day,  and  return  to  it  again  as  soon  as  the  morning  dawned, 
which  made  them  look  on  this  place  as  its  peculiar  residence. 
One  night  a  fellow  being  drunk,  and  by  the  strength  of  his  liquor 
rendered  more  daring  than  ordinary,  laughed  at  the  simplicity 
of  his  companions,  and  though  it  was  not  his  turn  to  go  with  the 
keys,  would  needs  take  that  office  upon  him,  to  testify  his  cour- 
age. All  the  soldiers  endeavoured  to  dissuade  him,  but  the  more 
they  said,  the  more  resolute  he  seemed,  and  swore  that  he  desired 
nothing  more  than  that  Mauthe  Doog  would  follow  him,  as  it 
had  done  the  others,  for  he  would  try  if  it  were  dog  or  devil. 
After  having  talked  in  a  very  reprobate  manner  for  some  time, 
he  snatched  up  the  keys  and  went  out  of  the  guard-room ;  in  some 
time  after  his  departure  a  great  noise  was  heard,  but  nobody  had 
the  boldness  to  see  what  occasioned  it,  till  the  adventurer  return- 
ing, they  demanded  the  knowledge  of  him ;  but  as  loud  and  noisy 
as  he  had  been  at  leaving  them,  he  was  now  become  sober  and 
silent  enough,  for  he  was  never  heard  to  speak  more;  and  though 
all  the  time  he  lived,  which  was  three  days,  he  was  entreated  by 
all  who  came  hear  him  either  to  speak,  or,  if  he  could  not  do  that, 
to  make  some  signs,  by  which  they  might  understand  what  had 
happened  to  him,  yet  nothing  intelligible  could  be  got  from  him, 
only  that,  by  the  distortion  of  his  limbs  and  features,  it  might  be 
guessed  that  he  died  in  agonies  more  than  is  common  in  a  natural 
death.  The  Mauthe  Doog  was,  however,  never  seen  after  in  the 
castle,  nor  would  any  one  attempt  to  go  through  that  passage, 
for  which  reason  it  was  closed  up,  and  another  way  made.  This 
accident  happened  about  threescore  years  since,  and  I  heard  it 
attested  by  several,  but  especially  by  an  old  soldier,  who  assured 

411 


NOTES 

me  he  had  seen  it  oftener  than  he  had  then  hairs  on  his  head. 
Having  taken  notice  of  everything  remarkable  in  the  churches, 
I  believe  my  reader  wUl  be  impatient  to  come  to  the  castle  itself, 
which,  in  spite  of  the  magnificence  the  pride  of  modern  ages  has 
adorned  the  palaces  of  princes  with,  exceeds  not  only  everything 
I  have  seen,  but  also  read  of,  in  nobleness  of  structure.  Though 
now  no  more  than  a  garrison  for  soldiers,  you  cannot  enter  it 
without  being  struck  with  a  veneration  which  the  most  beautiful 
buildings  of  later  years  cannot  inspire  you  with;  the  largeness  and 
loftiness  of  the  rooms,  the  vast  echo  resounding  through  them,  the 
many  winding  galleries,  the  prospect  of  the  sea,  and  the  ships, 
which,  by  reason  of  the  height  of  the  place,  seem  but  like  buoys 
floating  on  the  waves,  makes  you  fancy  yourself  in  a  superior  orb 
to  what  the  rest  of  mankind  inhabit,  and  fills  you  with  contempla- 
tions the  most  refined  and  pure  that  the  soul  is  capable  of  con- 
ceiving.' —  Waldron's  Description  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  foUo,  1731, 
P-  103. 

In  this  description,  the  account  of  the  inscriptions  in  so  many 
Oriental  languages,  and  bearing  date  before  the  Christian  era, 
is  certainly  as  much  exaggerated  as  the  story  of  the  Mauthe  Doog 
itself.  It  would  be  very  desirable  to  find  out  the  meaning  of  the 
word  'mauthe'  in  the  Manx  language,  which  is  a  dialect  of  the 
Gaelic.  I  observe,  that '  maithe '  in  Gaelic,  amongst  other  signifi- 
cations, has  that  of  'active'  or  'speedy';  and  also,  that  a  dog  of 
Richard  II,  mentioned  by  Froissart,  and  supposed  to  intimate 
the  fall  of  his  master's  authority,  by  leaving  him  and  fawning  on 
Bolingbroke,  was  termed  Mauthe;  but  neither  of  these  particulars 
tends  to  explain  the  very  impressive  story  of  the  fiendish  hound 
of  Peel  Castle. 

Note  12,  p.  240 

Beneath  the  only  one  of  the  four  churches  in  Castle  Rushin^ 
which  is  or  was  kept  a  little  in  repair  is  a  prison  or  dungeon  for 
ecclesiastical  offenders.  'This,'  says  Waldron,  'is  certainly  one 
of  the  most  dreadful  places  that  imagination  can  form.  The  sea 
runs  under  it  through  the  hollows  of  the  rock  with  such  a  con- 
tinual roar,  that  you  would  think  it  were  every  moment  breaking 
in  upon  you,  and  over  it  are  the  vaults  for  burying  the  dead.  The 
stairs  descending  to  this  place  of  terrors  are  not  above  thirty,  but 
so  steep  and  narrow  that  they  are  very  difficult  to  go  down,  a  child 
of  eight  or  nine  years  not  being  able  to  pass  them  but  sideways.' 
Waldron's  Description  oj  the  Isle  of  Man  in  his  Works,  p.  105,  folio. 
^  [Evidently  Peel  Castle  is  meant.  See  Note  11,  p.  409.] 
412 


NOTES 

Note  13,  p.  256 

The  story  often  alludes  to  the  various  superstitions  which  are,  or 
at  least  were,  received  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  an  an- 
cient Celtic  race,  still  speaking  the  language  of  their  fathers.  They 
retained  a  plentiful  stock  of  those  wild  legends  which  overawed  the 
reason  of  a  dark  age,  and  in  our  own  time  annoy  the  imagination 
of  those  who  listen  to  the  fascination  of  the  tale,  while  they  despise 
its  claims  to  belief.  The  following  curious  legendary  traditions  are 
extracted  from  Waldron,  a  huge  mine,  in  which  I  have  attempted 
to  discover  some  specimens  of  spar,  if  I  cannot  find  treasure. 

"T  is  this  ignorance,'  meaning  that  of  the  islanders,  'which  is 
the  occasion  of  the  excessive  superstition  which  reigns  among 
them.  I  have  already  given  some  hints  of  it,  but  not  enough  to 
show  the  world  what  a  Manksman  truly  is,  and  what  power  the 
prejudice  of  education  has  over  weak  minds.  If  books  were  of  any 
use  among  them,  one  would  swear  the  Count  of  Gabalis  had  been 
not  only  translated  into  the  Manks  tongue,  but  that  it  was  a  sort 
of  rule  of  faith  to  them,  since  there  is  no  fictitious  being  mentioned 
by  him,  in  his  book  of  absurdities,  which  they  would  not  readily 
give  credit  to.  I  know  not,  idolisers  as  they  are  of  the  clergy, 
whether  they  would  not  be  even  refractory  to  them,  were  they  to 
preach  against  the  existence  of  fairies,  or  even  against  their  being 
commonly  seen;  for  though  the  priesthood  are  a  kind  of  gods 
among  them,  yet  still  tradition  is  a  greater  god  than  they;  and  as 
they  confidently  assert  that  the  first  inhabitants  of  their  island  were 
fairies,  so  do  they  maintain  that  these  little  people  have  still  their 
residence  among  them.  They  call  them  the  Good  People,  and  say 
they  Uve  in  wilds  and  forests,  and  on  mountains,  and  shun  great 
cities  because  of  the  wickedness  acted  therein;  all  the  houses  are 
blest  where  they  visit,  for  they  fly  vice.  A  person  would  be 
thought  impudently  prophane  who  should  suffer  his  family  to 
go  to  bed  without  having  first  set  a  tub,  or  pail,  full  of  clean  water, 
for  these  guests  to  bathe  themselves  in,  which  the  natives  aver 
they  constantly  do,  as  soon  as  ever  the  eyes  of  the  family  are 
closed,  wherever  they  vouchsafe  to  come.  If  anything  happen 
to  be  mislaid,  and  found  again  in  some  place  where  it  was  not  ex- 
pected, they  presently  tell  you  a  fairy  took  it  and  returned  it;  if 
you  chance  to  get  a  fall  and  hurt  yourself,  a  fairy  laid  something 
in  your  way  to  throw  you  down,  as  a  punishment  for  some  sin 
you  have  committed.  I  have  heard  many  of  them  protest  they 
tave  been  carried  insensibly  great  distances  from  home,  and,  with- 

413 


NOTES 

out  knowing  how  they  came  there,  found  themselves  on  the  top 
of  a  mountain.  One  story  in  particular  was  told  me  of  a  man  who 
had  been  led  by  invisible  musicians  for  several  miles  together; 
and  not  being  able  to  resist  the  harmony,  followed  till  it  conducted 
him  to  a  large  common,  where  were  a  great  number  of  little  people 
sitting  round  a  table,  and  eating  and  drinking  in  a  very  jovial  man- 
ner. Among  them  were  some  faces  whom  he  thought  he  had 
formerly  seen,  but  forbore  taking  any  notice,  or  they  of  him,  till 
the  little  people,  offering  him  drink,  one  of  them,  whose  features 
seemed  not  unknown  to  him,  plucked  him  by  the  coat,  and  forbade 
him,  whatever  he  did,  to  taste  anything  he  saw  before  him;  "for 
if  you  do,"  added  he,  "you  will  be  as  I  am,  and  return  no  more  to 
your  family."  The  poor  man  was  much  affrighted,  but  resolved 
to  obey  the  injunction ;  accordingly,  a  large  silver  cup,  filled  with 
some  sort  of  liquor,  being  put  into  his  hand,  he  found  an  oppor- 
tunity to  throw  what  it  contained  on  the  ground.  Soon  after  the 
music  ceasing,  all  the  company  disappeared,  leaving  the  cup  in 
his  hand,  and  he  returned  home,  though  much  wearied  and  fa- 
tigued. He  went  the  next  day  and  communicated  to  the  minister 
of  the  parish  all  that  had  happened,  and  asked  his  advice  how  he 
should  dispose  of  the  cup;  to  which  the  parson  replied,  he  could 
not  do  better  than  to  devote  it  to  the  service  of  the  church;  and 
this  very  cup,  they  tell  me,  is  that  which  is  now  used  for  the 
consecrated  wine  in  Kirk-Merlugh. 

'Another  instance  they  gave  me  to  prove  the  reality  of  fairies 
was  of  a  fiddler,  who,  having  agreed  with  a  person,  who  was  a 
stranger,  for  so  much  money,  to  play  to  some  company  he  should 
bring  him  to,  all  the  twelve  days  of  Christmas,  and  received  earn- 
est for  it,  saw  his  new  master  vanish  into  the  earth  the  moment 
he  had  made  the  bargain.  Nothing  could  be  more  terrified  than 
was  the  poor  fiddler;  he  found  he  had  entered  himself  into  the 
devil's  service,  and  looked  on  himself  as  already  damned.  But 
having  recourse  also  to  a  clergyman,  he  received  some  hope;  he 
ordered  him,  however,  as  he  had  taken  earnest,  to  go  when  he 
should  be  called,  but  that  whatever  tunes  should  be  called  for,  to 
play  none  but  psalms.  On  the  day  appointed,  the  same  person  ap- 
peared, with  whom  he  went,  though  with  what  inward  reluctance 
't  is  easy  to  guess;  but  punctually  obeying  the  minister's  direc- 
tions, the  company  to  whom  he  played  were  so  angry,  that  they 
all  vanished  at  once,  leaving  him  at  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  and  so 
bruised  and  hurt,  though  he  was  not  sensible  when,  or  from  what 
hand  he  received  the  blows,  that  he  got  not  home  without  the 

414 


NOTES 

utmost  difficulty.  The  old  story  of  infants  being  changed  in  their 
cradles  is  here  in  such  credit,  that  mothers  are  in  continual  terror 
at  the  thoughts  of  it.  I  was  prevailed  upon  myself  to  go  and  see  a 
child,  who,  they  told  me,  was  one  of  these  changeUngs;  and,  in- 
deed, must  own  was  not  a  little  surprised,  as  well  as  shocked,  at 
the  sight.  Nothing  under  heaven  could  have  a  more  beautiful 
face;  but  though  between  five  and  six  years  old,  and  seemingly 
healthy,  he  was  so  far  from  being  able  to  walk  or  stand,  that  he 
could  not  so  much  as  move  any  one  joint;  his  limbs  were  vastly 
long  for  his  age,  but  smaller  than  an  infant's  of  six  months;  his 
complexion  was  perfectly  delicate,  and  he  had  the  finest  hair  in  the 
world;  he  never  spoke  nor  cried,  eat  scarce  anything,  and  was  very 
seldom  seen  to  smUe ;  but  if  any  one  called  him  a  fairy -elf ,  he  would 
frown  and  fix  his  eyes  so  earnestly  on  those  who  said  it,  as  if  he 
would  look  them  through.  His  mother,  or  at  least  his  supposed 
mother,  being  very  poor,  frequently  went  out  a-chairing,  and  left 
him  a  whole  day  together;  the  neighbours,  out  of  curiosity,  have 
often  looked  in  at  the  window  to  see  how  he  behaved  when  alone; 
which,  whenever  they  did,  they  were  sure  to  find  him  laughing, 
and  in  the  utmost  delight.  This  made  them  judge  that  he  was 
not  without  company  more  pleasing  to  him  than  any  mortal's 
could  be;  and  what  made  this  conjecture  seem  the  more  reason- 
able was,  that,  if  he  were  left  ever  so  dirty,  the  woman,  at  her 
return,  saw  him  with  a  clean  face,  and  his  hair  combed  with  the 
utmost  exactness  and  nicety. 

'A  second  account  of  this  nature  I  had  from  a  woman  to  whose 
offspring  the  fairies  seemed  to  have  taken  a  particular  fancy.  The 
fourth  or  fifth  night  after  she  was  delivered  of  her  first  child,  the 
family  were  alarmed  with  a  most  terrible  cry  of  fire,  on  which  every- 
body ran  out  of  the  house  to  see  whence  it  proceeded,  not  ex- 
cepting the  nurse,  who,  being  as  much  frighted  as  the  others, 
made  one  of  the  number.  The  poor  woman  lay  trembling  in  her 
bed  alone,  unable  to  help  herself,  and  her  back  being  turned  to 
the  infant,  saw  not  that  it  was  taken  away  by  an  invisible  hand. 
Those  who  had  left  her  having  inquired  about  the  neighbourhood, 
and  finding  there  was  no  cause  for  the  outcry  they  had  heard, 
laughed  at  each  other  for  the  mistake ;  but  as  they  were  going  to 
re-enter  the  house,  the  poor  babe  lay  on  the  threshold,  and  by  its 
cries  preserved  itself  from  being  trod  upon.  This  exceedingly 
amazed  all  that  saw  it,  and  the  mother  being  still  in  bed,  they 
could  ascribe  no  reason  for  finding  it  there  but  having  been  re- 
moved by  fairies,  who,  by  their  sudden  return,  had  been  prevented 

415 


NOTES 

from  carrying  it  any  farther.  About  a  year  after,  the  same  woman 
was  brought  to  bed  of  a  second  child,  which  had  not  been  born 
many  nights  before  a  great  noise  was  heard  in  the  house  where 
they  kept  their  cattle;  for  in  this  island,  where  there  is  no  shelter 
in  the  fields  from  the  excessive  cold  and  damps,  they  put  all  their 
mUch-kine  into  a  barn,  which  they  call  a  cattle-house.  Everybody 
that  was  stirring  ran  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  believing  that 
the  cows  had  got  loose.  The  nurse  was  as  ready  as  the  rest,  but, 
finding  all  safe,  and  the  barn  door  close,  immediately  returned, 
but  not  so  suddenly  but  that  the  new-born  babe  was  taken  out 
of  the  bed,  as  the  former  had  been,  and  dropt  on  their  coming, 
in  the  middle  of  the  entry.  This  was  enough  to  prove  the  fairies 
had  made  a  second  attempt;  and  the  parents  sending  for  a  minis- 
ter, joined  with  him  in  thanksgiving  to  God,  who  had  twice  de- 
livered their  children  from  being  taken  from  them.  But  in  the 
time  of  her  third  lying-in,  everybody  seemed  to  have  forgot  what 
had  happened  in  the  first  and  second,  and  on  a  noise  in  the  cattle- 
house,  ran  out  to  know  what  had  occasioned  it.  The  nurse  was 
the  only  person,  excepting  the  woman  in  the  straw,  who  stay'd  in 
the  house,  nor  was  she  detained  through  care  or  want  of  curiosity, 
but  by  the  bonds  of  sleep,  having  drank  a  Httle  too  plentifully  the 
preceding  day.  The  mother,  who  was  broad  awake,  saw  her  child 
lifted  out  of  the  bed,  and  carried  out  of  the  chamber,  though  she 
could  not  see  any  person  touch  it;  on  which  she  cried  out  as  loud 
as  she  could,  "  Nurse,  nurse!  my  child,  my  child  is  taken  away! " 
but  the  old  woman  was  too  fast  to  be  awakened  by  the  noise  she 
made,  and  the  infant  was  irretrievably  gone.  When  her  husband, 
and  those  who  had  accompanied  him,  returned,  they  found  her 
wringing  her  hands,  and  uttering  the  most  piteous  lamentations 
for  the  loss  of  her  child;  on  which,  said  the  husband,  looking  into 
the  bed,  "The  woman  is  mad,  do  not  you  see  the  child  Ues  by 
you?  "  On  which  she  turned,  and  saw  indeed  something  like  a 
child,  but  far  different  from  her  own,  who  was  a  very  beautiful, 
fat,  well-featured  babe;  whereas,  what  was  now  in  the  room  of  it 
was  a  poor,  lean,  withered,  deformed  creature.  It  lay  quite  naked, 
but  the  clothes  belonging  to  the  child  that  was  exchanged  for  it 
lay  wrapt  up  all  together  on  the  bed.  This  creature  lived  with 
them  near  the  space  of  nine  years,  in  all  which  time  it  eat  nothing 
except  a  few  herbs,  nor  was  ever  seen  to  void  any  other  excrement 
than  water.  It  neither  spoke  nor  could  stand  or  go,  but  seemed 
enervate  in  every  joint,  Hke  the  changeling  I  mentioned  before, 
and  in  all  its  actions  showed  itself  to  be  of  the  same  nature. 

416 


NOTES 

*A  woman,  who  lived  about  two  miles  distant  from  Ballasalli, 
and  used  to  serve  my  family  with  butter,  made  me  once  very 
merry  with  a  story  she  told  me  of  her  daughter,  a  girl  of  about 
ten  years  old,  who,  being  sent  over  the  fields  to  the  town,  for  a 
pennyworth  of  tobacco  for  her  father,  was  on  the  top  of  a  moun- 
tain surrounded  by  a  great  number  of  little  men,  who  would  not 
suffer  her  to  pass  any  farther.  Some  of  them  said  she  should  go 
with  them,  and  accordingly  laid  hold  of  her;  but  one  seeming 
more  pitiful,  desired  they  would  let  her  alone;  which  they  refusing, 
there  ensued  a  quarrel,  and  the  person  who  took  her  part  fought 
bravely  in  her  defence.  This  so  incensed  the  others,  that,  to  be 
revenged  on  her  for  being  the  cause,  two  or  three  of  them  seized 
her,  and  pulling  up  her  clothes,  whipped  her  heartily;  after  which, 
it  seems,  they  had  no  further  power  over  her,  and  she  run  home 
directly,  teUing  what  had  befallen  her,  and  showing  her  buttocks, 
on  which  were  the  prints  of  several  small  hands.  Several  of  the 
townspeople  went  with  her  to  the  mountain,  and  she  conducting 
them  to  the  spot,  the  little  antagonists  were  gone,  but  had  left 
behind  them  proofs  (as  the  good  woman  said)  that  what  the  girl 
had  informed  them  was  true,  for  there  was  a  great  deal  of  blood 
to  be  seen  on  the  stones.  This  did  she  aver  with  all  the  solemnity 
imaginable. 

'Another  woman,  equally  superstitious  and  fanciful  as  the 
former,  told  me  that,  being  great  with  child,  and  expecting  every 
moment  the  good  hour,  as  she  lay  awake  one  night  in  her  bed, 
she  saw  seven  or  eight  Uttle  women  come  into  her  chamber,  one 
of  whom  had  an  infant  in  her  arms;  they  were  followed  by  a  man 
of  the  same  size  with  themselves,  but  in  the  habit  of  a  minister. 
One  of  them  went  to  the  paU,  and  finding  no  water  in  it,  cried  out 
to  the  others,  "What  must  they  do  to  christen  the  child?"  On 
which  they  replied,  "It  should  be  done  in  beer."  With  that  the 
seeming  parson  took  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  performed  the 
ceremony  of  baptism,  dipping  his  hand  into  a  great  tub  of  strong 
beer,  which  the  woman  had  brewed  the  day  before  to  be  ready 
for  her  lying-in.  She  told  me  that  they  baptised  the  infant  by  the 
name  of  Joan,  which  made  her  know  she  was  pregnant  of  a  girl,  as 
it  proved  a  few  days  after,  when  she  was  delivered.  She  added 
also,  that  it  was  common  for  the  fairies  to  make  a  mock  christen- 
ing when  any  person  was  near  her  time,  and  that  according  to 
what  child,  male  or  female,  they  brought,  such  should  the  woman 
bring  into  the  world. 

'But  I  cannot  give  over  this  subject  without  mentioning  what 

87  417 


NOTES 

they  say  befell  a  young  sailor,  who,  coming  off  a  long  voyage, 
though  it  was  late  at  night,  chose  to  land  rather  than  be  another 
night  in  the  vessel;  being  permitted  to  do  so,  he  was  set  on  shore 
at  Duglas.  It  happened  to  be  a  fine  moonlight  night,  and  very 
dry,  being  a  small  frost;  he  therefore  forbore  going  into  any  house 
to  refresh  himself,  but  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  house  of 
a  sister  he  had  at  Kirk-Merlugh.  As  he  was  going  over  a  pretty 
high  mountain,  he  heard  the  noise  of  horses,  the  hollow  of  a  hunts- 
man, and  the  finest  horn  in  the  world.  He  was  a  little  surprised 
that  anybody  pursued  those  kinds  of  sports  in  the  night,  but  he 
had  not  time  for  much  reflection  before  they  all  passed  by  him, 
so  near,  that  he  was  able  to  count  what  number  there  was  of 
them,  which,  he  said,  was  thirteen,  and  that  they  were  all  drest 
in  green,  and  gallantly  mounted.  He  was  so  well  pleased  with  the 
sight,  that  he  would  gladly  have  followed,  could  he  have  kept  pace 
with  them;  he  crossed  the  footway,  however,  that  he  might  see 
them  again,  which  he  did  more  than  once,  and  lost  not  the  sound 
of  the  horn  for  some  miles.  At  length,  being  arrived  at  his  sister's, 
he  tells  her  the  story,  who  presently  clapped  her  hands  for  joy 
that  he  was  come  home  safe;  "for,"  said  she,  "those  you  saw  were 
fairies,  and  't  is  well  they  did  not  take  you  away  with  them." 
There  is  no  persuading  them  but  that  these  huntings  are  frequent 
in  the  island,  and  that  these  little  gentry,  being  too  proud  to  ride 
on  Manks  horses,  which  they  might  find  in  the  field,  make  use  of 
the  English  and  Irish  ones,  which  are  brought  over  and  kept  by 
gentlemen.  They  say  that  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  find 
these  poor  beasts,  in  a  morning,  all  over  in  a  sweat  and  foam,  and 
tired  almost  to  death,  when  their  owners  have  believed  they 
have  never  been  out  of  the  stable.  A  gentleman  of  Ballafletcher 
assured  me  he  had  three  or  four  of  his  best  horses  killed  with 
these  nocturnal  journeys. 

'At  my  first  coming  into  the  island,  and  hearing  these  sort  of 
stories,  I  imputed  the  giving  credit  to  them  merely  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  poor  creatures  who  related  them;  but  was  strangely 
surprised  when  I  heard  other  narratives  of  this  kind,  and  alto- 
gether as  absurd,  attested  by  men  who  passed  for  persons  of  sound 
judgment.  Among  this  number  was  a  gentleman,  my  near  neigh- 
bour, who  afiirmed  with  the  most  solemn  asseverations  that,  being 
of  my  opinion,  and  entirely  averse  to  the  behef  that  any  such 
beings  were  permitted  to  wander  for  the  purposes  related  of  them, 
he  had  been  at  last  convinced  by  the  appearance  of  several  Uttle 
figures  playing  and  leaping  over  some  stones  in  a  field,  whom  at 

418 


NOTES 

a  few  yards'  distance  he  imagined  were  schoolboys,  and  intended, 
when  he  came  near  enough,  to  reprimand  for  being  absent  from 
their  exercises  at  that  time  of  the  day,  it  being  then,  he  said,  be- 
tween three  and  four  of  the  clock;  but  when  he  approached,  as 
near  as  he  could  guess,  within  twenty  paces,  they  all  immediately 
disappeared,  though  he  had  never  taken  his  eye  off  them  from  the 
first  moment  he  beheld  them ;  nor  was  there  any  place  where  they 
could  so  suddenly  retreat,  it  being  an  open  field  without  hedge  or 
bush,  and,  as  I  said  before,  broad  day. 

'Another  instance,  which  might  serve  to  strengthen  the  credit 
of  the  other,  was  told  me  by  a  person  who  had  the  reputation  of 
the  utmost  integrity.  This  man  being  desirous  of  disposing  of  a 
horse  he  had  at  that  time  no  great  occasion  for,  and  riding  him  to 
market  for  that  purpose,  was  accosted,  in  passing  over  the  moun- 
tains, by  a  little  man  in  a  plain  dress,  who  asked  him  if  he  would 
sell  his  horse.  "  'T  is  the  design  I  am  going  on,"  replied  the  person 
who  told  me  the  story.  On  which  the  other  desired  to  know  the 
price.  "Eight  pounds,"  said  he.  "No,"  resumed  the  purchaser, 
"I  will  give  no  more  than  seven;  which,  if  you  wiU  take,  here  is 
your  money."  The  owner,  thinking  he  had  bid  pretty  fair,  agreed 
with  him;  and  the  money  being  told  out,  the  one  dismounted,  and 
the  other  got  on  the  back  of  the  horse,  which  he  had  no  sooner 
done  than  both  beast  and  rider  sunk  into  the  earth  immediately, 
leaving  the  person  who  had  made  the  bargain  in  the  utmost  terror 
and  consternation.  As  soon  as  he  had  a  little  recovered  himself, 
he  went  directly  to  the  parson  of  the  parish,  and  related  what  had 
passed,  desiring  he  would  give  his  opinion  whether  he  ought  to 
make  use  of  the  money  he  had  received  or  not.  To  which  he  re- 
plied that,  "As  he  had  made  a  fair  bargain,  and  no  way  circum- 
vented, nor  endeavoured  to  circumvent,  the  buyer,  he  saw  no 
reason  to  believe,  in  case  it  was  an  evil  spirit,  it  could  have  any 
power  over  him."  On  this  assurance  he  went  home  weU  satis- 
fied, and  nothing  afterward  happened  to  give  him  any  disquiet 
concerning  this  affair. 

'A  second  account  of  the  same  nature  I  had  from  a  clergyman, 
and  a  person  of  more  sanctity  than  the  generality  of  his  function 
in  this  island.  It  was  his  custom  to  pass  some  hours  every  even- 
ing in  a  field  near  his  house,  indulging  meditation,  and  calling 
himself  to  an  account  for  the  transactions  of  the  past  day.  As  he 
was  in  this  place  one  night,  more  than  ordinarily  wrapt  in  contem- 
plation, he  wandered,  without  thinking  where  he  was,  a  consid- 
erable way  farther  than  it  was  usual  for  him  to  do;  and,  as  he  told 

419 


NOTES 

me,  he  knew  not  how  far  the  deep  musing  he  was  in  might  have 
carried  him,  if  it  had  not  been  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  noise, 
which  at  first,  he  took  to  be  the  distant  bellowing  of  a  bull;  but 
as  he  listened  more  heedfuUy  to  it,  found  there  was  something 
more  terrible  in  the  sound  than  could  proceed  from  that  creature. 
He  confessed  to  me  that  he  was  no  less  affrighted  than  surprised, 
especially  when,  the  noise  coming  still  nearer,  he  imagined,  what- 
ever it  was  that  it  proceeded  from,  it  must  pass  him.  He  had,  how- 
ever, presence  enough  of  mind  to  place  himself  with  his  back  to  a 
hedge,  where  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  began  to  pray  to  God  with 
all  the  vehemence  so  dreadful  an  occasion  required.  He  had  not 
been  long  in  that  position,  before  he  beheld  something  in  the  form 
of  a  bull,  but  infinitely  larger  than  ever  he  had  seen  in  England, 
much  less  in  Man,  where  the  cattle  are  very  small  in  general. 
"The  eyes,"  he  said,  "seemed  to  shoot  forth  flames,  and  the  run- 
ning of  it  was  with  such  a  force  that  the  ground  shook  under  it 
as  in  an  earthquake.  It  made  directly  toward  a  little  cottage,  and 
thereafter  most  horribly  disappeared."  The  moon  being  then  at 
the  full,  and  shining  in  her  utmost  splendour,  all  these  passages 
were  visible  to  our  amazed  divine,  who,  having  finished  his  ejacu- 
lation, and  given  thanks  to  God  for  his  preservation,  went  to  the 
cottage,  the  owner  of  which,  they  told  him,  was  that  moment 
dead.  The  good  old  gentleman  was  loth  to  pass  a  censure  which 
might  be  judged  an  uncharitable  one;  but  the  deceased  having 
the  character  of  a  very  ill  liver,  most  people  who  heard  the  story 
were  apt  to  imagine  this  terrible  apparition  came  to  attend  his 
last  moments. 

'A  mighty  bustle  they  also  make  of  an  apparition  which,  they 
say,  haunts  Castle  Russin,  in  the  form  of  a  woman,  who  was  some 
years  since  executed  for  the  murder  of  her  child.  I  have  heard 
not  only  persons  who  have  been  confined  there  for  debt,  but  also 
the  soldiers  of  the  garrison,  affirm  they  have  seen  it  various  times; 
but  what  I  took  most  notice  of  was  the  report  of  a  gentleman,  of 
whose  good  understanding,  as  well  as  veracity,  I  have  a  very  great 
opinion.  He  told  me  that,  happening  to  be  abroad  late  one  night, 
and  catched  in  an  excessive  storm  of  wind  and  rain,  he  saw  a 
woman  stand  before  the  castle  gate,  where,  being  not  the  least 
shelter,  it  something  surprised  him  that  anybody,  much  less  one 
of  that  sex,  should  not  rather  run  to  some  little  porch  or  shed,  of 
which  there  are  several  in  Castle  Town,  than  chuse  to  stand  still, 
exposed  and  alone,  to  such  a  dreadful  tempest.  His  curiosity 
exciting  him  to  draw  nearer,  that  he  might  discover  who  it  was 

420 


NOTES 

that  seemed  so  little  to  regard  the  fury  of  the  elements,  he  per- 
ceived she  retreated  on  his  approach,  and  at  last,  he  thought, 
went  into  the  castle,  though  the  gates  were  shut.  This,  obhging 
him  to  think  he  had  seen  a  spirit,  sent  him  home  very  much  terri- 
fied; but  the  next  day,  relating  his  adventure  to  some  people  who 
lived  in  the  castle,  and  describing,  as  near  as  he  could,  the  garb 
and  stature  of  the  apparition,  they  told  him  it  was  that  of  the 
woman  above-mentioned,  who  had  been  frequently  seen,  by  the 
soldiers  on  guard,  to  pass  in  and  out  of  the  gates,  as  well  as  to  walk 
through  the  rooms,  though  there  was  no  visible  means  to  enter. 
Though  so  familiar  to  the  eye,  no  person  has  yet,  however,  had 
the  courage  to  speak  to  it,  and,  as  they  say  a  spirit  has  no  power 
to  reveal  its  mind  without  being  conjured  to  do  so  in  a  proper 
manner,  the  reason  of  its  being  permitted  to  wander  is  un- 
known. 

'Another  story  of  the  like  nature  I  have  heard  concerning  an 
apparition  which  has  frequently  been  seen  on  a  wild  common 
near  Kirk  Jarmyn  Mountains,  which,  they  say,  assumes  the  shape 
of  a  wolf,  and  fills  the  air  with  most  terrible  howlings.  But  having 
run  on  so  far  in  this  account  of  supernatural  appearances,  I  can- 
not forget  what  was  told  me  by  an  Enghsh  gentleman,  and  my 
particular  friend.  He  was  about  passing  over  Duglas  Bridge  be- 
fore it  was  broken  down,  but  the  tide  being  high,  he  was  obliged 
to  take  the  river,  having  an  excellent  horse  under  him,  and  one 
accustomed  to  swim.  As  he  was  in  the  middle  of  it,  he  heard,  or 
imagined  he  heard,  the  finest  symphony  —  I  will  not  say  in  the 
world,  for  nothing  human  ever  came  up  to  it.  The  horse  was  no 
less  sensible  of  the  harmony  than  himself,  and  kept  in  an  im- 
movable posture  all  the  time  it  lasted;  which,  he  said,  could  not 
be  less  than  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  according  to  the  most 
exact  calculation  he  could  make,  when  he  arrived  at  the  end  of 
his  Httle  journey,  and  found  how  long  he  had  been  coming.  He, 
who  before  laughed  at  all  the  stories  told  of  fairies,  now  became 
a  convert,  and  believed  as  much  as  ever  a  Manksman  of  them  all. 
As  to  circles  in  the  grass,  and  the  impression  of  small  feet  among 
the  snow,  I  cannot  deny  but  I  have  seen  them  frequently,  and 
once  thought  I  heard  a  whistle,  as  though  in  my  ear,  when  no- 
body that  could  make  it  was  near  me.  For  my  part,  I  shall  not  pre- 
tend to  determine  if  such  appearances  have  any  reality,  or  are 
only  the  effect  of  the  imagination;  but  as  I  had  much  rather  give 
credit  to  them  than  be  convinced  by  ocular  demonstration,  I 
shall  leave  the  point  to  be  discussed  by  those  who  have  made  it 

421 


NOTES 

more  their  study,  and  only  say,  that  whatever  belief  we  ought  to 
give  to  some  accounts  of  this  kind,  there  are  others,  and  those 
much  more  numerous,  which  merit  only  to  be  laughed  at  —  it  not 
being  at  all  consonant  to  reason,  or  the  idea  reUgion  gives  us  of  the 
fallen  angels,  to  suppose  spirits,  so  eminent  in  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge as  to  be  exceeded  by  nothing  but  their  Creator,  should 
visit  the  earth  for  such  trifling  purposes  as  to  throw  bottles  and 
glasses  about  a  room,  and  a  thousand  other  as  ridiculous  gambols 
mentioned  in  those  voluminous  treatises  of  apparitions. 

'The  natives  of  this  island  tell  you  also  that,  before  any  person 
dies,  the  procession  of  the  funeral  is  acted  by  a  sort  of  beings, 
which  for  that  end  render  themselves  visible.  I  know  several 
that  have  offered  to  make  oath  that,  as  they  have  been  passing 
the  road,  one  of  these  funerals  has  come  behind  them,  and  even 
laid  the  bier  on  their  shoulders,  as  though  to  assist  the  bearers. 
One  person,  who  assured  me  he  had  been  served  so,  told  me  that 
the  flesh  of  his  shoulder  had  been  very  much  bruised,  and  was 
black  for  many  weeks  after.  There  are  few  or  none  of  them  who 
pretend  not  to  have  seen  or  heard  these  imaginary  obsequies  (for 
I  must  not  omit  that  they  sing  psalms  in  the  same  manner  as 
those  do  who  accompany  the  corpse  of  a  dead  friend),  which  so 
little  differ  from  real  ones,  that  they  are  not  to  be  known  till  both 
coffin  and  mourners  are  seen  to  vanish  at  the  church  doors.  These 
they  take  to  be  a  sort  of  friendly  demons,  and  their  business,  they 
say,  is  to  warn  people  of  what  is  to  befall  them;  accordingly,  they 
give  notice  of  any  stranger's  approach,  by  the  trampling  of  horses 
at  the  gate  of  the  house  where  they  are  to  arrive.  As  difficult  as  I 
found  it  to  bring  myself  to  give  any  faith  to  this,  I  have  frequently 
been  very  much  suprised,  when,  on  visiting  a  friend,  I  have  foxmd 
the  table  ready,  spread  and  everything  in  order  to  receive  me, 
and  been  told  by  the  person  to  whom  I  went  that  he  had  know- 
ledge of  my  coming,  or  some  other  guest,  by  these  good-natured 
intelUgencers;  nay,  when  obliged  to  be  absent  some  time  from 
home,  my  own  servants  have  assured  me  they  were  informed  by 
these  means  of  my  return,  and  expected  me  the  very  hour  I  came, 
though  perhaps  it  was  some  days  before  I  hoped  it  myself  at  my 
going  abroad.  That  this  is  fact,  I  am  positively  convinced  by 
many  proofs;  but  how  or  wherefore  it  should  be  so  has  frequently 
given  me  much  matter  of  reflection,  yet  left  me  in  the  same  un- 
certainty as  before.  Here,  therefore,  I  will  quit  the  subject,  and 
proceed  to  things  much  easier  to  be  accounted  for.'  —  Waldron's 
Description  oj  the  Isle  of  Man,  foUo,  1731,  p.  125. 

422 


NOTES 

This  long  quotation  is  extremely  curious,  as  containing  an  ac- 
count of  those  very  superstitions  in  the  Isle  of  Man  which  are  fre- 
quently collected  both  in  Ireland  and  in  the  Highlands  of  Scot- 
land, and  which  have  employed  the  attention  of  Mr.  Crofton 
Croker  and  of  the  author  of  the  Fairy  Mythology.  The  supersti- 
tions are  in  every  respect  so  like  each  other,  that  they  may  be  re- 
ferred to  one  common  source;  unless  we  conclude  that  they  are 
natural  to  the  human  mind,  and,  like  the  common  orders  of  veg- 
etables, which  naturally  spring  up  in  every  climate,  these  naturally 
arise  in  every  bosom;  as  the  best  philologists  are  of  opinion  that 
fragments  of  an  original  speech  are  to  be  discovered  in  almost  all 
languages  in  the  globe. 

Note  14,  p.  322 

An  instance  of  such  a  sale  of  an  unfortunate  dancing-girl  oc- 
curred in  Edinburgh  in  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

'13th  January  1687.  —  Reid,  the  mountebank,  pursues  Scott 
of  Harden  and  his  lady,  for  stealing  away  from  him  a  little  girl 
called  "the  tumbUng  lassie,"  that  danced  upon  his  stage,  and  he 
claimed  damages,  and  produced  a  contract,  by  which  he  bought 
her  from  her  mother  for  thirty  pounds  Scots  [£2  10s.  sterling]. 
But  we  have  no  slaves  in  Scotland,'  continues  the  liberal  reporter, 
'and  mothers  cannot  sell  their  bairns;  and  physicians  attested  that 
the  employment  of  tumbling  would  kill  her,  and  her  joints  were 
now  grown  stiff  and  she  decHned  to  return,  though  she  was  at 
least  an  apprentice,  and  could  not  run  away  from  her  master. 
Yet  some  quoted  Moses's  law,  that  if  a  servant  shelter  himself 
with  thee  against  his  master's  cruelty,  thou  shalt  surely  not  de- 
liver him  up.  The  Lords,  renitente  cancellario,  assoilzied  [i.e., 
acquitted]  Harden.'  —  Fountainhall's  Decisions,  vol.  i,  p.  441. 

A  man  may  entertain  some  vanity  in  being  connected  with  a 
patron  of  the  cause  of  humanity;  so  the  Author  may  be  pardoned 
mentioning  that  he  derives  his  own  direct  descent  from  the  father 
of  this  champion  of  humanity. 

Reid,  the  mountebank,  apparently  knew  well  how  to  set  the 
sails  of  his  own  interest  to  whatever  wind  proved  most  hkely  to 
turn  them.  He  failed  not  to  avail  himself  of  King  James's  rage 
for  the  conversion  of  heretics,  on  which  subject  Fountainhall  has 
this  sarcastic  memorandum :  — 

'Reid,  the  mountebank,  is  received  into  the  Popish  Church, 
and  one  of  his  blackamoors  was  persuaded  to  accept  of  baptism 

423 


NOTES 

from  the  Popish  priests,  and  to  turn  Christian  Papist,  which  was 
a  great  trophy.  He  was  christened  James  after  the  King,  and 
Chancellor,  and  the  Apostle  James!'  —  Ibid.,  p.  440. 

Note  15,  p.  332 

The  infamous  character  of  those  who  contrived  and  carried  on 
the  pretended  Popish  Plot  may  be  best  estimated  by  the  account 
given  in  North's  Examen,  who  describes  Gates  himself  with  con- 
siderable power  of  colouring.  '  He  was  now  in  his  trine  exaltation, 
his  plot  in  full  force,  eflacacy,  and  virtue;  he  walked  about  with 
his  guards  [assigned  for  fear  of  the  Papists  murdering  him].   He 
had  lodgings  in  Whitehall,  and  £1200  per  annum  pension.   And 
no  wonder,  after  he  had  the  impudence  to  say  to  the  House  of 
Lords,  in  plain  terms,  that  if  they  would  not  help  him  to  more 
money,  he  must  be  forced  to  help  himself.  He  put  on  an  Episcopal 
garb,  (except  the  lawn  sleeves,)  silk  gown  and  cassock,  great  hat, 
satin  hatband  and  rose,  long  scarf,  and  was  caUed,  or  most  blas- 
phemously called  himself,  the  saviour  of  the  nation;  whoever 
he  pointed  at  was  taken  up  and  committed;  so  that  many  people 
got  out  of  his  way,  as  from  a  blast,  and  glad  they  could  prove 
their  two  last  years'  conversation.    The  very  breath  of  him  was 
pestilential,  and,  if  it  brought  not  imprisonment  or  death  over 
such  on  whom  it  fell,  it  surely  poisoned  reputation,  and  left  good 
Protestants  arrant  Papists,  and  something  worse  than  that  — 
in  danger  of  being  put  in  the  plot  as  traitors.   Upon  his  examina- 
tion before  the  Commons,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  Scroggs  was 
sent  for  to  the  House,  and  there  signed  warrants  for  the  imprison- 
ment of  iive  Roman  Catholic  peers,  upon  which  they  were  laid 
up  in  the  Tower.   The  votes  of  the  Houses  seemed  to  confirm  the 
whole.   A  solemn  form  of  prayer  was  desired  upon  the  subject  of 
the  plot,  and  when  one  was  prepared  it  was  found  faulty,  be- 
cause the  Papists  were  not  named  as  authors  of  it.    God  surely 
knew  whether  it  were  so  or  not;  however,  it  was  yielded  to, 
that  omniscience  might  not  want  information.  The  Queen  herself 
was  accused  at  the  Commons'  bar.  The  city,  for  fear  of  the  Pa- 
pists, put  up  their  posts  and  chains;  and  the  chamberlain,  Sir 
Thomas  Player,  in  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  gave  his  reason  for  the 
city's  using  that  caution,  which  was,  that  he  did  not  know  but 
the  next  morning  they  might  all  rise  with  their  throats  cut.   The 
trials,  convictions,  and  executions  of  the  priests,  Jesuits,  and  others 
were  had,  and  attended  with  vast  mob  and  noise.  Nothing  ordin- 

424 


NOTES 

aryor  moderate  was  to  be  heard  in  people's  communication;  but 
every  debate  and  action  was  high-flown  and  tumultuous.  All 
freedom  of  speech  was  taken  away;  and  not  to  beheve  the  plot 
was  worse  than  being  Turk,  Jew,  or  infidel.  For  this  fact  of  God- 
frey's murder,  the  three  poor  men  of  Somerset  House  were,  as 
was  said,  convicted.  The  most  pitiful  circumstance  was  that  of 
their  trial,  under  the  popular  prejudice  against  them.  The  Lord 
Chief  Justice  Scroggs  took  in  with  the  tide,  and  ranted  for  the 
plot,  hewing  down  Popery,  as  Scanderbeg  hewed  the  Turk;  which 
was  but  little  propitious  to  them.  The  other  judges  were  passive, 
and  meddled  little,  except  some  that  were  takers  in  also;  and 
particularly  the  good  Recorder  Treby,  who  eased  the  Attorney- 
General,  for  he  seldom  asked  a  question  but  one  might  guess  he 
foresaw  the  answer.  Some  may  blame  the  (at  best)  passive  be- 
haviour of  the  judges;  but  really,  considering  it  was  impossible 
to  stem  such  a  current,  the  appearing  to  do  it  in  vain  had  been 
more  unprofitable,  because  it  had  inflamed  the  great  and  small 
rout,  drawn  scandal  on  themselves,  and  disabled  them  from  taking 
in  when  opportunity  should  be  more  favourable.  The  prisoners, 
under  these  hardships,  had  enough  to  do  to  make  any  defence; 
for  where  the  testimony  was  positive  it  was  conclusive;  for  no 
reasoning  ab  improhabili  would  serve  the  turn:  it  must  be  ab 
impossibili  or  not  at  all.  Whoever  doth  not  well  observe  the 
power  of  judging  may  think  many  things  in  the  course  of  justice 
very  strange.  If  one  side  is  held  to  demonstration,  and  the  other 
allowed  presumptions  for  proofs,  any  cause  may  be  carried.  In  a 
word,  anger,  poUcy,  inhumanity,  and  prejudice  had,  at  this  time, 
a  planetary  possession  of  the  minds  of  most  men,  and  destroyed 
in  them  that  golden  rule  of  doing  as  they  would  be  done  unto.' 
In  another  passage  Oates's  personal  appearance  is  thus  de- 
scribed: —  'He  was  a  low  man,  of  an  ill  cut,  very  short  neck,  and 
his  visage  and  features  were  most  particular.  His  mouth  was  the 
centre  of  his  face;  and  a  compass  there  would  sweep  his  nose, 
forehead,  and  chin  within  the  perimeter.  Cave  quos  ipse  Deus 
notavit.  In  a  word,  he  was  a  most  consummate  cheat,  blasphemer, 
vicious,  perjured,  impudent,  and  saucy,  foul-mouth'd  wretch; 
and  were  it  not  for  the  truth  of  history,  and  the  great  emotions 
in  the  public  he  was  the  cause  of,  not  fit  (so  little  deserving)  to  be 
remembered.' 

Note  i6,  p.  353 
There  is  no  more  odious  feature  of  this  detestable  plot  than  that 
425 


NOTES 

the  forsworn  witnesses,  by  whose  oaths  the  fraud  was  supported, 
claimed  a  sort  of  literary  interest  in  their  own  fabrications  by  pub- 
lications under  such  titles  as  the  following:  —  A  Narrative  and 
Impartial  Discovery  of  the  Horrid  Popish  Plot,  carried  on  for  Burn- 
ing and  Destroying  the  Cities  of  London  and  Westminster,  with  their 
Suburbs,  setting  forth  the  several  Councils,  Orders,  and  Resolutions 
of  the  Jesuits  concerning  the  same,  by  (a  Person  so  and  so  named), 
lately  engaged  in  that  Horrid  Design,  and  one  of  the  Popish  Com- 
mittee for  carrying  on  such  Fires. 

At  any  other  period,  it  would  have  appeared  equally  unjust 
and  illegal  to  poison  the  public  mind  with  stuff  of  this  kind  before 
the  witnesses  had  made  their  depositions  in  open  court.  But 
in  this  moment  of  frenzy  everything  which  could  confirm  the 
existence  of  these  senseless  delusions  was  eagerly  listened  to;  and 
whatever  seemed  to  infer  doubt  of  the  witnesses,  or  hesitation  con- 
cerning the  existence  of  the  plot,  was  a  stifling,  strangling,  or 
undervaluing  the  discovery  of  the  grand  conspiracy.  In  short, 
as  expressed  by  Dryden 

'T  was  worse  than  plotting  to  suspect  the  plot. 

Note  17,  p.  357 

It  will  be  afterwards  found  that  in  the  supposed  Richard  Gan- 
lesse  is  first  introduced  into  the  story  the  detestable  Edward 
Christian,  a  character  with  as  few  redeeming  good  qualities  as 
the  Author's  too  prolific  pencil  has  ever  attempted  to  draw.  He 
is  a  mere  creature  of  the  imagination;  and  although  he  may  re- 
ceive some  dignity  of  character  from  his  talents,  energy,  and  influ- 
ence over  others,  he  is,  in  other  respects,  a  moral  monster,  since 
even  his  affection  for  his  brother,  and  resentment  of  his  death,  are 
grounded  on  vindictive  feelings,  which  scruple  at  no  means,  even 
the  foulest,  for  their  gratification.  The  Author  will  be  readily  be- 
lieved when  he  aifirms  that  no  original  of  the  present  times,  or 
those  which  preceded  them,  has  given  the  outline  for  a  character 
so  odious.  The  personage  is  a  mere  fancy  piece.  In  particular, 
the  Author  disclaims  all  allusion  to  a  gentleman  named  Edward 
Christian,  who  actually  existed  during  those  troublesome  times, 
was  brother  of  William  Christian,  the  dempster,  and  died  in 
prison  in  the  Isle  of  Man.  With  this  unfortunate  gentleman  the 
character  of  the  novel  has  not  the  slightest  connexion,  nor  do  the 
incidents  of  their  Uves  in  any  respect  agree.  There  existed,  as 
already  stated,  an  Edward  Christian  of  the  period,  who  was 

426 


NOTES 

capable  of  very  bad  things,  since  he  was  a  companion  and  associ- 
ate of  the  robber  Thomas  Blood,  and  convicted  along  with  him  of 
a  conspiracy  against  the  celebrated  Duke  of  Buckingham.  This 
character  was  probably  not  unlike  that  of  his  namesake  in  the 
novel,  at  least  the  feats  ascribed  to  him  are  hand  aliena  a  Sccevola 
studiis.  But  Mr.  Christian  of  Unwin,  if  there  existed  a  rogue  of 
his  name  during  that  period  of  general  corruption,  has  the  more 
right  to  have  him  distinguished  from  his  unfortunate  relative, 
who  died  in  prison  before  the  period  mentioned. 

Note  i8,  p.  363 

This  alludes  to  a  singular  custom  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
northern  coast  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  who  used  of  old  to  eat  the  sod- 
den meat  before  they  supped  the  broth,  lest,  it  is  said,  they  should 
be  deprived  of  the  more  substantial  part  of  the  meal,  if  they 
waited  to  eat  it  at  the  second  course. 

They  account  for  this  anomaly  in  the  following  manner:  — 
About  the  commencement  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  Earl  of 
Derby,  being  a  fiery  young  chief,  fond  of  war  and  honour,  made 
a  furious  inroad,  with  all  his  forces,  into  the  Stewartry  of  Kirkcud- 
bright, and  committed  great  ravages,  still  remembered  in  Manx 
song.  Mr.  Train,  with  his  usual  kindness,  sent  me  the  following 
literal  translation  of  the  verses:  — 

There  came  Thomas  Derby,  born  king, 

He  it  was  who  wore  the  golden  crupper; 
There  was  not  one  lord  in  wide  England  itself 

With  so  many  vassals  as  he  had. 

On  Scottishmcn  he  avenged  himself: 

He  went  over  to  Kirkcudbright, 
And  there  made  such  havoc  of  houses, 

That  some  are  uninhabitable  to  this  day. 

Was  not  that  fair  in  a  youth. 

To  avenge  himself  on  his  foe  while  he  was  so  young. 
Before  his  beard  had  grown  around  his  mouth, 

And  to  bring  home  his  men  in  safety? 

This  incursion  of  the  earl  with  the  golden  crupper  was  severely 
revenged.  The  gentlemen  of  the  name  of  MacCulloch,  a  clan 
then  and  now  powerful  in  Galloway,  had  at  their  head,  at  the  time, 
a  chief  of  courage  and  activity,  named  Cutlar  MacCulloch.  He 
was  an  excellent  seaman,  and  speedily  equipped  a  predatory  flo- 
tilla, with  which  he  made  repeated  descents  on  the  northern  shores 

427 


NOTES 

of  the  Isle  of  Man,  the  dominions  of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  carrying 
off  all  that  was  not,  in  the  Border  phrase,  too  hot  or  too  heavy. 

The  following  is  the  deposition  of  John  Machariotie  concern- 
ing the  losses  he  had  suffered  by  this  sea-king  and  his  Galloway 
men.  It  is  dated  at  Peel  Castle.  '  Taken  by  Collard  MacCulloch 
and  his  men  by  wrongious  spoUation,  Twa  box  beddes  and  aykin 
burdis,  i  c  lathe,  a  feder  bouster,  a  cote  of  mailzie,  a  mete  burde, 
two  kystis,  five  barrils,  a  gyle-fat,  xx  pipes,  twa  gunys,  three  bolls 
of  malt,  a  querne  of  rosate  of  vi  stane,  certain  petes  [peats],  extend- 
ing to  i  c  load,  viii  bollis  of  thieschit  corn,  xii  unthraschin,  and  xl 
knowte.'  —  Chaloner,  p.  47,  edit.  London,  1653. 

This  active  rover  rendered  his  name  so  formidable,  that  the 
custom  of  eating  the  meat  before  the  broth  was  introduced  by  the 
islanders,  whose  festivals  he  often  interrupted.  They  also  remem- 
bered him  in  their  prayers  and  graces;  as, 

God  keep  the  house  and  all  within, 
From  Cut  MacCulloch  and  his  kin; 

or,  as  I  have  heard  it  recited, 

God  keep  the  good  corn  and  the  sheep,  and  the  bullock, 
From  Satan,  from  sin,  and  from  Cutlar  MacCulloch. 

It  is  said  to  have  chanced,  as  the  master  of  the  house  had  ut- 
tered one  of  these  popular  benisons,  that  Cutlar  in  person  entered 
the  habitation  with  this  reply:  — 

Gudeman,  gudeman,  ye  pray  too  late, 
MacCulloch 's  ships  are  at  the  Yaite. 

The  Yaite  is  a  well-known  landing-place  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Isle  of  Man. 

This  redoubted  corsair  is,  I  believe,  now  represented  by  the 
chief  of  the  name,  James  MacCulloch,  Esq.,  of  Ardwell,  the 
Author's  friend  and  near  connexion. 


Note  19,  p.  367 

The  unfortunate  Coleman,  executed  for  the  Popish  Plot,  was 
secretary  to  the  late  Duchess  of  York,  and  had  been  a  correspond- 
ent of  the  French  king's  confessor,  Pere  la  Chaise.  Their  corre- 
spondence was  seized,  and  although  the  papers  contained  nothing 
to  confirm  the  monstrous  fictions  of  the  accusers,  yet  there  was  a 
great  deal  to  show  that  he  and  other  zealous  Catholics  anxiously 
sought  for  and  desired  to  find  the  means  to  bring  back  England 

428 


NOTES 

to  the  faith  of  Rome.  'It  is  certain/  says  Hume,  'that  the  restless 
and  enterprising  spirit  of  the  Catholic  Church,  particularly  of  the 
Jesuits,  merits  attention,  and  is  in  some  degree  dangerous  to 
every  other  communion.  Such  zeal  of  proselytism  actuates  that 
sect,  that  its  missionaries  have  penetrated  into  every  region  of 
the  globe,  and  in  one  sense  there  is  a  Popish  plot  continually 
carrying  on  against  all  states,  Protestant,  Pagan,  and  Mahom- 
etan.'—  History  of  England,  vol.  vii,  p.  72,  edit.  1797. 

Note  20,  p.  368 

This  solemnity  is  especially  mentioned  by  North.  'The  crowd 
was  prodigious,  both  at  the  procession  and  in  and  about  the 
church,  and  so  heated,  that  anything  called  Papist,  were  it  a  cat 
or  a  dog,  had  probably  gone  to  pieces  in  a  moment.  The  Catholics 
all  kept  close  in  their  houses  and  lodgings,  thinking  it  a  good 
composition  to  be  safe  there,  so  far  were  they  from  acting  vio- 
lently at  that  time.  But  there  was  aU  that  which  upheld  among 
the  common  people  an  artificial  fright,  so  that  every  one  almost 
fancied  a  Popish  knife  just  at  his  throat;  and  at  the  sermon, 
beside  the  preacher,  two  thumping  divines  stood  upright  in  the 
pulpit  ...  to  guard  him  from  being  killed,  while  he  was  preach- 
ing, by  the  Papists.  I  did  not  see  this  spectre,  but  was  credibly 
told  by  some  that  afiirmed  that  they  did  see  it,  and  I  .  .  .  never 
met  with  any  that  did  contradict  it.  A  most  portentous  spectacle, 
sure,  three  parsons  in  one  pulpit!  Enough  of  itself,  on  a  less  occa- 
sion, to  excite  terror  in  the  audience.  The  hke,  I  guess,  was  never 
seen  before,  and  probably  will  never  be  seen  again;  and  it  had  not 
been  so  now,  as  is  most  evident,  but  for  some  stratagem  founded 
upon  the  impetuosity  of  the  mob.'  —  Examen,  p.  104. 

It  may  be,  however,  remarked,  that  the  singular  circumstance 
of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  the  justice  before  whom  Gates  had 
made  his  deposition,  being  found  murdered,  was  the  incident  upon 
which  most  men  relied  as  complete  proof  of  the  existence  of  the 
plot.  As  he  was  beheved  to  have  lost  his  Ufe  by  the  Papists,  for 
having  taken  Gates's  deposition,  the  panic  spread  with  inconceiv- 
able rapidity,  and  every  species  of  horror  was  apprehended  — 
every  report,  the  more  absurd  the  better,  eagerly  Hstened  to  and 
beheved.  Whether  this  unfortunate  gentleman  lost  his  Ufe  by 
Papist  or  Protestant,  by  private  enemies  or  by  his  own  hand,  for 
he  was  a  low-spirited  and  melancholy  man,  will  probably  never 
be  discovered. 

429 


NOTES 


Note  21,  p.  369 


Dun  was  the  hangman  of  the  day  at  Tyburn.  He  was  successor 
of  Gregory  Brunden,  who  was  by  many  believed  to  be  the  same 
who  dropped  the  axe  upon  Charles  I,  though  others  were  sus- 
pected of  being  the  actual  regicide. 


GLOSSARY 


Abencerrages  and  Zegris,  rival  Moor- 
ish families  of  Granada,  in  Spain. 

accompt,  an  account. 

adad,  adod,  possibly  a  variety  of 
egad. 

an,  if,  and. 

angle,  a  fishing  rod. 

arcantun,  the  secret  of  transmuting 
base  metal  into  gold. 

awa,  away. 

aykin,  oaken. 

backsword,  a  sword  with  only  one 
sharp  edge. 

baggage,  a  young  woman. 

bairn,  a  child. 

bale,  misery,  calamity. 

bandalier,  bandoleer,  a  shoulder- 
belt. 

barcelona,  a  handkerchief  of  soft 
twilled  silk. 

barnacles,  spectacles. 

bating,  excepting. 

bide,  await. 

bite,  a  deceiver. 

black-jack,  a  leather  jug. 

body  of  me,  a  popular  oath. 

boot,  aid,  help. 

broad-piece,  a  gold  coin  worth  20s.  ■ 

budget,  a  bag. 

buskin,  a  high  boot  with  thick  soles. 

cartel,  a  challenge. 

cast,  a  '  lift '  by  way  of  conveyance. 

cock-a-Ieekie,  soup  made  of  a  cock 

boiled  with  leeks. 
couranto,  a  lively  dance, 
courbette,  curvet. 
Cuckolds  and  Roundheads,  a  popular 

Royalist  song. 

deevil,  the  devil. 

dobby,anold  English  name  for  goblin. 

dog-bolt,  a  fool,  a  butt. 


dogger,  a  fishing-vessel. 
drift,  an  excavation  made  in  a  nearly 
horizontal  direction. 

earth,  an  animal's  hole. 
eld,  antiquity. 
enow,  enough. 

faitour,  a  traitor,  a  rascal. 

farthingale,  a  sort  of  crinoline. 

fern-seed,  supposed  to  have  the 
power  of  rendering  people  invisi- 
ble. 

franklin,  a  freeholder,  a  yeoman. 

gaffer,  an  old  man,  an  overseer, 
gossip,  a  familiar  friend, 
grogram,  a  coarse  stuff  made  of  silk 
and  mohair. 

hansmogan,  hogan-mogan,  equiva- 
lent to  Dutch. 

hays,  an  old  country  dance. 

head  borough,  a  petty  constable. 

hedge-bill,  an  implement  for  pruning 
hedges. 

jennet,  a  horse  of  a  fine  Spanish 
breed. 

kit,  a  small  violin  used  by  dancing 

masters. 
knave,  a  servant, 
kystis,  chests. 

lachrymae  Christi,  a  red  wine  grown 

on  the  slopes  of  Vesuvius. 
leading-staff,    a    staff    borne    by    a 

commanding  ofiBcer. 
list,  please,  wish. 
looby-land,   lubber-land,   a   land   of 

laziness. 

mailzie,  mail. 


431 


GLOSSARY 


maunna,  must  not. 

mercer,  a  dealer  in  cloths,  especially 
silks  and  other  costly  materials. 

micher,  a  truant,  a  thief. 

minion,  a  favourite,  a  servile  creat- 
ure. 

nantz,  French  brandy, 
nowt,  oxen,  cattle. 

October,  ale  brewed  in  October,  good 
ale. 

odds,  a  corruption  of  'God's.' 

oddzooks,  a  corruption  of  God's 
hooks. 

of  s,  of  his. 

Old  Noll,  a  contemptuous  epithet  ap- 
plied to  Cromwell  by  the  Cavaliers. 

Old  Rowley,  a  nickname  of  Charles 
II. 

padder,  a  highway  robber. 

palmerin,  a  famous  champion  in  the 
age  of  chivalry. 

paterero,  a  kind  of  cannon. 

penthouse,  a  sloping  roof. 

petronel,  a  sort  of  large  horse  pistol. 

pink,  to  stab  with  a  rapier. 

pinner,  the  flap  of  a  headdress. 

pottle,  a  liquid  measure. 

pound  Scots,  equal  to  i  j.  8  d.  Eng- 
lish. 

precisian,  a  Puritan. 

prick-eared,  having  the  hair  cut  short 
and  close,  so  that  the  ears  are 
prominent. 

prink,  to  put  on  pompous  airs,  to 
dress  ostentatiously. 

prolusion,  a  preliminary  performance. 

proper,  own. 

pursuivant,  a  warrant  officer. 

quacksalver,  a  quack. 

ranting,  rioting,  fighting. 
recorder,  a  wind  instrument  of  the 
flute  kind. 


rede,  tell,  advise. 

restifif,  stubborn,  obstinate. 

ring  in  the  park,  the  fashionable  place 
of  resort  in  Hyde  Park;  probably 
the  ornamental  ground  attached  to 
the  Banqueting  House. 

rouse,  a  full  draught,  a  bumper,  a 
carousal. 

ruflle,  a  disturbance;  also,  to  swag- 
ger. 

rummer,  a  drinking  cup,  a  large 
glass. 

salmagundi,  a  mixture  of  various 
meats,  radishes,  endive,  etc. 

sarsenet,  plain  silk. 

sequestrator,  a  trustee  or  bailiS  hav- 
ing control  of  property  on  which 
there  are  creditors'  claims. 

shot,  reckoning,  charge. 

squab,  a  young  pigeon. 

stingo,  old  beer. 

stoup,  a  drinking  vessel,  a  flagon. 

sylpiaid,  a  little  sylph. 

trencher,  a  wooden  plate  for  serving 

meat. 
trencherman,  a  hearty  feeder, 
trepan,  a  snare. 
trowl,  throw,  roll,  drive  about, 
truncheon,  a  short  staff,  a  club, 
tuck,  a  rapier. 

verjuice,  a  kind  of  vinegar. 

wannion,  vengeance. 

wassail,  ale  or  wine  spiced;  also,  a 
festival. 

weasand,  the  windpipe. 

wench,  a  young  woman,  a  hand- 
maid. 

whinger,  whinyard,  a  sword,  a 
hanger. 

with  a  witness,  with  a  vengeance. 

zechin,  a  gold  Byzantine  coin,  worth 
about  9  5.  4  i. 


END  OF  VOLUME  I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


BY 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


VOLUME  II 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1913 
BY   HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

VOLUME  II 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

The  Gordon  then  his  bugle  blew, 

And  said,  'Awa,  awa; 
The  House  of  Rhodes  is  all  on  flame, 

I  hauld  it  time  to  ga'.' 

Old  Ballad. 

When  Julian  awakened  the  next  morning,  all  was  still 
and  vacant  in  the  apartment.  The  rising  sun,  which 
shone  through  the  half-closed  shutters,  showed  some 
rehcs  of  the  last  night's  banquet,  which  his  confused  and 
throbbing  head  assured  him  had  been  carried  into  a  de- 
bauch. 

Without  being  much  of  a  boon  companion,  Julian,  like 
other  young  men  of  the  time,  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
shunning  wine,  which  was  then  used  in  considerable 
quantities;  and  he  could  not  help  being  surprised  that 
the  few  cups  he  had  drunk  over  night  had  produced  on 
his  frame  the  effects  of  excess.  He  rose  up,  adjusted  his 
dress,  and  sought  in  the  apartment  for  water  to  perform 
his  morning  ablutions,  but  without  success.  Wine  there 
was  on  the  table ;  and  beside  it  one  stool  stood  and  another 
lay,  as  if  thrown  down  in  the  heedless  riot  of  the  evening. 
*  Surely,'  he  thought  to  himself,  *  the  wine  must  have  been 
very  powerful  which  rendered  me  insensible  to  the  noise 
my  companions  must  have  made  ere  they  finished  their 
carouse.' 

28  I 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

With  momentary  suspicion,  he  examined  his  weapons, 
and  the  packet  which  he  had  received  from  the  countess, 
and  kept  in  a  secret  pocket  of  his  upper  coat,  bound  close 
about  his  person.  All  was  safe;  and  the  very  operation 
reminded  him  of  the  duties  which  lay  before  him.  He 
left  the  apartment  where  they  had  supped  and  went 
into  another,  wretched  enough,  where,  in  a  truckle-bed, 
were  stretched  two  bodies,  covered  with  a  rug,  the  heads 
belonging  to  which  were  amicably  deposited  upon  the 
same  truss  of  hay.  The  one  was  the  black  shock-head  of 
the  groom;  the  other,  graced  with  a  long  thrum  night- 
cap, showed  a  grizzled  pate,  and  a  grave  caricatured 
countenance,  which  the  hook-nose  and  lantern- jaws  pro- 
claimed to  belong  to  the  Gallic  minister  of  good  cheer 
whose  praises  he  had  heard  sung  forth  on  the  preceding 
evening.  These  worthies  seemed  to  have  slumbered  in 
the  arms  of  Bacchus  as  well  as  of  Morpheus,  for  there 
were  broken  flasks  on  the  floor;  and  their  deep  snoring 
alone  showed  that  they  were  alive. 

Bent  upon  resuming  his  journey,  as  duty  and  expedi- 
ence alike  dictated,  JuHan  next  descended  the  trap-stair 
and  essayed  a  door  at  the  bottom  of  the  steps.  It  was 
fastened  within.  He  called;  no  answer  was  returned.  It 
must  be,  he  thought,  the  apartment  of  the  revellers, 
now  probably  sleeping  as  soundly  as  their  dependants 
still  slumbered,  and  as  he  himself  had  done  a  few  min- 
utes before.  Should  he  awake  them?  To  what  purpose? 
They  were  men  with  whom  accident  had  involved  him 
against  his  own  will ;  and,  situated  as  he  was,  he  thought  it 
wise  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  breaking  off  from 
society  which  was  suspicious,  and  might  be  perilous. 
Ruminating  thus,  he  essayed  another  door,  wliich  ad- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

mitted  him  to  a  bedroom,  where  lay  another  harmoni- 
ous slumberer.  The  mean  utensils,  pewter  measures, 
empty  cans  and  casks,  with  which  this  room  was  lum- 
bered, proclaimed  it  that  of  the  host,  who  slept  sur- 
rounded by  his  professional  implements  of  hospitality 
and  stock-in-trade. 

This  discovery  relieved  Peveril  from  some  delicate 
embarrassment  which  he  had  formerly  entertained.  He 
put  upon  the  table  a  piece  of  money,  sufficient,  as  he 
judged,  to  pay  his  share  of  the  preceding  night's  reckon- 
ing; not  caring  to  be  indebted  for  his  entertainment  to 
the  strangers,  whom  he  was  leaving  without  the  formal- 
ity of  an  adieu. 

His  conscience  cleared  of  this  gentlemanlike  scruple, 
Peveril  proceeded  with  a  Hght  heart,  though  somewhat 
a  dizzy  head,  to  the  stable,  which  he  easily  recognised 
among  a  few  other  paltry  outhouses.  His  horse,  refreshed 
with  rest,  and  perhaps  not  unmindful  of  his  services  the 
evening  before,  neighed  as  his  master  entered  the  stable ; 
and  Peveril  accepted  the  sound  as  an  omen  of  a  pros- 
perous journey.  He  paid  the  augury  with  a  sieveful 
of  com;  and,  while  his  palfrey  profited  by  his  attention, 
walked  into  the  fresh  air  to  cool  his  heated  blood,  and 
consider  what  course  he  should  pursue  in  order  to  reach 
the  Castle  of  Martindale  before  sunset.  His  acquaintance 
with  the  country  in  general  gave  him  confidence  that  he 
could  not  have  greatly  deviated  from  the  nearest  road ; 
and  with  his  horse  in  good  condition,  he  conceived  he 
might  easily  reach  Martindale  before  nightfall. 

Having  adjusted  his  route  in  his  mind,  he  returned 
into  the  stable  to  prepare  his  steed  for  the  journey,  and 
soon  led  him  into  the  ruinous  courtyard  of  the  inn, 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

bridled,  saddled,  and  ready  to  be  mounted.  But  as 
Peveril's  hand  was  upon  the  mane  and  his  left  foot  in  the 
stirrup,  a  hand  touched  his  cloak,  and  the  voice  of  Gan- 
lesse  said,  'What,  Master  Peveril,  is  this  your  foreign 
breeding?  or  have  you  learned  in  France  to  take  French 
leave  of  your  friends?' 

Julian  started  like  a  guilty  thing,  although  a  moment's 
reflection  assured  him  that  he  was  neither  wrong  nor  in 
danger.  'I  cared  not  to  disturb  you,'  he  said,  'although 
I  did  come  as  far  as  the  door  of  your  chamber.  I  sup- 
posed your  friend  and  you  might  require,  after  our  last 
night's  revel,  rather  sleep  than  ceremony.  I  left  my  own 
bed,  though  a  rough  one,  with  more  reluctance  than 
usual;  and  as  my  occasions  oblige  me  to  be  an  early 
traveller,  I  thought  it  best  to  depart  without  leavetaking. 
I  have  left  a  token  for  mine  host  on  the  table  of  his  apart- 
ment.' 

'It  was  unnecessary,'  said  Ganlesse:  'the  rascal  is  al- 
ready overpaid.  But  are  you  not  rather  premature  in 
your  purpose  of  departing?  My  mind  tells  me  that  Mas- 
ter Julian  Peveril  had  better  proceed  with  me  to  Lon- 
don than  turn  aside  for  any  purpose  whatever.  You  may 
see  already  that  I  am  no  ordinary  person,  but  a  master- 
spirit of  the  time.  For  the  cuckoo  I  travel  with,  and 
whom  I  indulge  in  his  prodigal  folhes,  he  also  has  his 
uses.  But  you  are  of  a  different  cast;  and  I  not  only 
would  serve  3^ou,  but  even  wish  you  to  be  my  own.' 

Julian  gazed  on  this  singular  person  when  he  spoke. 
We  have  already  said  his  figure  was  mean  and  slight,  with 
very  ordinary  and  unmarked  features,  unless  we  were  to 
distinguish  the  lightnings  of  a  keen  grey  eye,  which  cor- 
responded, in  its  careless  and  prideful  glance,  with  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

haughty  superiority  which  the  stranger  assumed  in  his 
conversation.  It  was  not  till  after  a  momentary  pause 
that  Julian  replied,  'Can  you  wonder,  sir,  that  in  my 
circumstances  —  if  they  are  indeed  known  to  you  so  weil 
as  they  seem  —  I  should  decline  unnecessary  confidence 
on  the  affairs  of  moment  which  have  called  me  hither, 
or  refuse  the  company  of  a  stranger,  who  assigns  no  rea- 
son for  desiring  mine? ' 

'Be  it  as  you  list,  young  man,'  answered  Ganlesse; 
'only  remember  hereafter,  you  had  a  fair  offer;  it  is  not 
every  one  to  whom  I  would  have  made  it.  If  we  should 
meet  hereafter  on  other,  and  on  worse,  terms,  impute  it 
to  yourself,  and  not  to  me.' 

'I  understand  not  your  threat,'  answered  Peveril,  'if 
a  threat  be  indeed  impHed.  I  have  done  no  evil  —  I  feel 
no  apprehension;  and  I  cannot,  in  common  sense,  con- 
ceive why  I  should  suffer  for  refusing  my  confidence  to 
a  stranger,  who  seems  to  require  that  I  should  submit 
me  blindfold  to  his  guidance.' 

'Farewell,  then.  Sir  JuHan  of  the  Peak  —  that  may 
soon  be,'  said  the  stranger,  removing  the  hand  which 
he  had  as  yet  left  carelessly  on  the  horse's  bridle. 

'How  mean  you  by  that  phrase?'  said  JuUan;  'and 
why  apply  such  a  title  to  me? ' 

The  stranger  smiled,  and  only  answered,  'Here  our 
conference  ends.  The  way  is  before  you.  You  will  find 
it  longer  and  rougher  than  that  by  which  I  would  have 
guided  you.' 

So  saying,  Ganlesse  turned  his  back  and  walked  to- 
wards the  house.  On  the  threshold  he  turned  about  once 
more,  and  seeing  that  Peveril  had  not  yet  moved  from 
the  spot,  he  again  smiled  and  beckoned  to  him ;  but  Ju- 

S 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Han,  recalled  by  that  sign  to  recollection,  spurred  his 
horse  and  set  forward  on  his  journey. 

It  was  not  long  ere  his  local  acquaintance  with  the 
country  enabled  him  to  regain  the  road  to  Martindale, 
from  which  he  had  diverged  on  the  preceding  evening 
for  about  two  miles.  But  the  roads,  or  rather  the  paths, 
of  this  wild  country,  so  much  satirised  by  their  native 
poet.  Cotton,  were  so  complicated  in  some  places,  so 
difficult  to  be  traced  in  others,  and  so  unfit  for  hasty 
travelling  in  almost  all,  that,  in  spite  of  JuHan's  utmost 
exertions,  and  though  he  made  no  longer  delay  upon 
the  journey  than  was  necessary  to  bait  his  horse  at  a 
small  hamlet  through  which  he  passed  at  noon,  it  was 
nightfall  ere  he  reached  an  eminence  from  which  an 
hour  sooner  the  battlements  of  Martindale  Castle  would 
have  been  visible;  and  where,  when  they  were  hid  in 
night,  their  situation  was  indicated  by  a  light  con- 
stantly maintained  in  a  lofty  tower  called  the  War- 
der's Turret,  and  which  domestic  beacon  had  acquired 
through  all  the  neighbourhood  the  name  of  Peveril's 
Pole-star. 

This  was  regularly  kindled  at  curfew- toll,  and  sup- 
plied with  as  much  wood  and  charcoal  as  maintained  the 
light  till  sunrise;  and  at  no  period  was  the  ceremonial 
omitted  saving  during  the  space  intervening  between  the 
death  of  a  lord  of  the  castle  and  his  interment.  When 
this  last  event  had  taken  place,  the  nightly  beacon  was 
rekindled  with  some  ceremony,  and  continued  till  fate 
called  the  successor  to  sleep  with  his  fathers.  It  is  not 
known  from  what  circumstance  the  practice  of  main- 
taining this  light  originally  sprung.  Tradition  spoke  of  it 
doubtfully.    Some  thought  it  was  the  signal  of  general 

6 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

hospitality,  which,  in  ancient  times,  guided  the  wander- 
ing knight  or  the  weary  pilgrim  to  rest  and  refreshment. 
Others  spoke  of  it  as  a  'love-lighted  watch-fire,'  by  which 
the  provident  anxiety  of  a  former  lady  of  Martindale 
guided  her  husband  homeward  through  the  terrors  of 
a  midnight  storm.  The  less  favourable  construction  of 
unfriendly  neighbours  of  the  dissenting  persuasion  as- 
cribed the  origin  and  continuance  of  this  practice  to  the 
assuming  pride  of  the  family  of  Peveril,  who  thereby 
chose  to  intimate  their  ancient  suzerainte  over  the  whole 
country,  in  the  manner  of  the  admiral,  who  carries  the 
lantern  in  the  poop,  for  the  guidance  of  the  fleet.  And 
in  the  former  times  our  old  friend.  Master  Solsgrace, 
dealt  from  the  pulpit  many  a  hard  hit  against  Sir  Geof- 
frey, as  he  that  had  raised  his  horn  and  set  up  his  candle- 
stick on  high.  Certain  it  is,  that  all  the  Peverils,  from 
father  to  son,  had  been  especially  attentive  to  the  main- 
tenance of  this  custom,  as  something  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  dignity  of  their  family;  and  in  the  hands 
of  Sir  Geoffrey  the  observance  was  not  likely  to  be 
omitted. 

Accordingly,  the  polar  star  of  Peveril  had  continued 
to  beam  more  or  less  brightly  during  all  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  Civil  War;  and  glimmered,  however  faintly,  dur- 
ing the  subsequent  period  of  Sir  Geoffrey's  depression. 
But  he  was  often  heard  to  say,  and  sometimes  to  swear, 
that,  while  there  was  a  perch  of  woodland  left  to  the  es- 
tate, the  old  beacon-grate  should  not  lack  replenishing. 
All  this  his  son  Julian  well  knew;  and  therefore  it  was 
with  no  ordinary  feelings  of  surprise  and  anxiety  that, 
looking  in  the  direction  of  the  castle,  he  perceived  that 
the  light  was  not  visible.    He  halted,  rubbed  his  eyes. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

shifted  his  position,  and  endeavoured  in  vain  to  persuade 
himself  that  he  had  mistaken  the  point  from  which  the 
polar  star  of  his  house  was  visible,  or  that  some  newly 
intervening  obstacle  —  the  growth  of  a  plantation,  per- 
haps, or  the  erection  of  some  building  —  intercepted  the 
light  of  the  beacon.  But  a  moment's  reflection  assured 
him  that,  from  the  high  and  free  situation  which  Martin- 
dale  Castle  bore  in  reference  to  the  surrounding  country, 
this  could  not  have  taken  place;  and  the  inference  neces- 
sarily forced  itself  upon  his  mind  that  Sir  Goeffrey,  his 
father,  was  either  deceased  or  that  the  family  must 
have  been  disturbed  by  some  strange  calamity,  under 
the  pressure  of  which  their  wonted  custom  and  solemn 
usage  had  been  neglected. 

Under  the  influence  of  undefinable  apprehension, 
young  Peveril  now  struck  the  spurs  into  his  jaded  steed, 
and  forcing  him  down  the  broken  and  steep  path  at  a 
pace  which  set  safety  at  defiance,  he  arrived  at  the  vil- 
lage of  Martindale-Moultrassie,  eagerly  desirous  to  as- 
certain the  cause  of  this  ominous  eclipse.  The  street 
through  which  his  tired  horse  paced  slow  and  reluctantly 
was  now  deserted  and  empty;  and  scarcely  a  candle 
twinkled  from  a  casement,  except  from  the  latticed 
window  of  the  little  inn,  called  the  Peveril  Arms,  from 
which  a  broad  light  shone,  and  several  voices  were  heard 
in  rude  festivity. 

Before  the  door  of  this  inn  the  Jaded  palfrey,  guided 
by  the  instinct  or  experience  which  makes  a  hackney 
well  acquainted  with  the  outside  of  a  house  of  enter- 
tainment, made  so  sudden  and  determined  a  pause  that, 
notwithstanding  his  haste,  the  rider  thought  it  best  to 
dismount,  expecting  to  be  readily  supplied  with  a  fresh 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

horse  by  Roger  Raine,  the  landlord,  the  ancient  depend- 
ant of  his  family.  He  also  wished  to  reheve  his  anxiety, 
by  inquiring  concerning  the  state  of  things  at  the  castle, 
when  he  was  surprised  to  hear,  bursting  from  the  tap- 
room of  the  loyal  old  host,  a  well-known  song  of  the 
Commonwealth  time,  which  some  Puritanical  wag  had 
written  in  reprehension  of  the  Cavaliers  and  their  dis- 
solute courses,  and  in  which  his  father  came  in  for  a  lash 
of  the  satirist. 

*  Ye  thought  in  the  world  there  was  no  power  to  tame  ye, 
So  you  tippled  and  drabb'd  till  the  saints  overcame  ye; 
"Forsooth,"  and  "Ne'er  stir,"  sir,  have  vanquish'd  "G —  d — n 
me," 

Which  nobody  can  deny. 

There  was  bluff  old  Sir  Geoffrey  loved  brandy  and  mum  well, 
And  to  see  a  beer-glass  turn'd  over  the  thumb  well; 
But  he  fled  like  the  wind,  before  Fairfax  and  Cromwell, 
Which  nobody  can  deny.' 

Some  strange  revolution,  Julian  was  aware,  must  have 
taken  place,  both  in  the  village  and  in  the  castle,  ere 
these  sounds  of  unseemly  insult  could  have  been  poured 
forth  in  the  very  inn  which  was  decorated  with  the  ar- 
morial bearings  of  his  family;  and  not  knowing  how  far 
it  might  be  advisable  to  intrude  on  these  unfriendly  rev- 
ellers, without  the  power  of  repelling  or  chastising  their 
insolence,  he  led  his  horse  to  a  back-door,  which,  as  he 
recollected,  communicated  with  the  landlord's  apart- 
ment, having  determined  to  make  private  inquiry  of 
him  concerning  the  state  of  matters  at  the  castle.  He 
knocked  repeatedly,  and  as  often  called  on  Roger  Raine 
with  an  earnest  but  stifled  voice.  At  length  a  female 
voice  rephed  by  the  usual  inquiry,  'Who  is  there?' 

9 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

*It  is  I,  Dame  Raine  —  I,  Julian  Peveril;  tell  your 

husband  to  come  to  me  presently.' 

'Alack,  and  well-a-day,  Master  Julian,  if  it  be  really 
you — you  are  to  know  my  poor  goodman  has  gone  where 
he  can  come  to  no  one;  but,  doubtless,  we  shall  all  go  to 
him,  as  Matthew  Chamberlain  says.' 

'He  is  dead,  then?'  said  Juhan.  *I  am  extremely 
sorry — ' 

'Dead  six  months  and  more,  Master  Julian;  and  let 
me  tell  you,  it  is  a  long  time  for  a  lone  woman,  as  Matt 
Chamberlain  says.' 

'  Well,  do  you  or  your  chamberlain  undo  the  door.  I 
want  a  fresh  horse;  and  I  want  to  know  how  things  are 
at  the  castle.' 

'  The  castle  —  lack-a-day !  Chamberlain  —  Matthew 
Chamberlain  —  I  say,  Matt ! ' 

Matt  Chamberlain  apparently  was  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, for  he  presently  answered  her  call;  and  Peveril, 
as  he  stood  close  to  the  door,  could  hear  them  whispering 
to  each  other,  and  distinguish  in  a  great  measure  what 
they  said.  And  here  it  may  be  noticed  that  Dame  Raine, 
accustomed  to  submit  to  the  authority  of  old  Roger,  who 
vindicated  as  well  the  husband's  domestic  prerogative  as 
that  of  the  monarch  in  the  state,  had,  when  left  a  buxom 
widow,  been  so  far  incommoded  by  the  exercise  of  her 
newly  acquired  independence,  that  she  had  recourse, 
upon  all  occasions,  to  the  advice  of  Matt  Chamberlain; 
and  as  Matt  began  no  longer  to  go  slipshod,  and  in  a  red 
nightcap,  but  wore  Spanish  shoes  and  a  high-crowned 
beaver,  at  least  of  a  Sunday,  and  moreover  was  called 
'Master  Matthew'  by  his  fellow-servants,  the  neigh- 
bours in  the  village  argued  a  speedy  change  of  the  name 

xo 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

on  the  sign-post  —  nay,  perhaps,  of  the  very  sign  itself, 
for  Matthew  was  a  bit  of  a  Puritan,  and  no  friend  to 
Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

*Now  counsel  me,  an  you  be  a  man,  Matt  Chamber- 
lain,' said  Widow  Raine;  'for  never  stir,  if  here  be  not 
Master  Julian's  own  self,  and  he  wants  a  horse,  and  what 
not,  and  all  as  if  things  were  as  they  wont  to  be.' 

'Why,  dame,  an  ye  will  walk  by  my  counsel,'  said  the 
chamberlain,  'e'en  shake  him  oflf:  let  him  be  jogging 
while  his  boots  are  green.  This  is  no  world  for  folks  to 
scald  their  fingers  in  other  folks'  broth.' 

*  And  that  is  well  spoken,  truly,'  answered  Dame 
Raine;  'but  then,  look  you.  Matt,  we  have  eaten  their 
bread,  and,  as  my  poor  goodman  used  to  say  — ' 

'  Nay  —  nay,  dame,  they  that  walk  by  the  counsel 
of  the  dead  shall  have  none  of  the  living;  and  so  you 
may  do  as  you  list;  but  if  you  will  walk  by  mine,  drop 
latch,  and  draw  bolt,  and  bid  him  seek  quarters  farther 
—  that  is  my  counsel.' 

'I  desire  nothing  of  you,  sirrah,'  said  Peveril,  'save 
but  to  know  how  Sir  Geoffrey  and  his  lady  do? ' 

*Lack-a-day!  —  lack-a-day!'  in  a  tone  of  sympathy, 
was  the  only  answer  he  received  from  the  landlady ;  and 
the  conversation  betwixt  her  and  her  chamberlain  was 
resumed,  but  in  a  tone  too  low  to  be  overheard. 

At  length.  Matt  Chamberlain  spoke  aloud,  and  with 
a  tone  of  authority:  'We  undo  no  doors  at  this  time  of 
night,  for  it  is  against  the  justices'  orders,  and  might 
cost  us  our  license;  and  for  the  castle,  the  road  up  to  it 
lies  before  you,  and  I  think  you  know  it  as  well  as  we 
do.' 

'And  I  know  you,'  said  Peveril,  remounting  his  wearied 

II 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

horse,  'for  an  ungrateful  churl,  whom,  on  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, I  will  assuredly  cudgel  to  a  mummy.' 

To  this  menace  Matthew  made  no  reply,  and  Peveril 
presently  heard  him  leave  the  apartment,  after  a  few 
earnest  words  betwixt  him  and  his  mistress. 

Impatient  at  this  delay,  and  at  the  evil  omen  implied 
in  these  people's  conversation  and  deportment,  Peveril, 
after  some  vain  spurring  of  his  horse,  which  positively 
refused  to  move  a  step  farther,  dismounted  once  more, 
and  was  about  to  pursue  his  journey  on  foot,  notwith- 
standing the  extreme  disadvantage  under  which  the 
high  riding-boots  of  the  period  laid  those  who  attempted 
to  walk  with  such  encumbrances,  when  he  was  stopped 
by  a  gentle  call  from  the  window. 

Her  coxmsellor  was  no  sooner  gone  than  the  good- 
nature and  habitual  veneration  of  the  dame  for  the 
house  of  Peveril,  and  perhaps  some  fear  for  her  coun- 
sellor's bones,  induced  her  to  open  the  casement,  and 
cry,  but  in  a  low  and  timid  tone,  'Hist!  hist!  Master 
Julian  —  be  you  gone? ' 

'Not  yet,  dame,'  said  Julian;  'though  it  seems  my 
stay  is  imwelcome.' 

*  Nay,  but,  good  young  master,  it  is  because  men  coun- 
sel so  differently ;  for  here  was  my  poor  old  Roger  Raine 
would  have  thought  the  chimney-corner  too  cold  for 
you ;  and  here  is  Matt  Chamberlain  thinks  the  cold  court- 
yard is  warm  enough.' 

'Never  mind  that,  dame,'  said  Julian;  'do  but  only 
tell  me  what  has  happened  at  Martindale  Castle?  I  see 
the  beacon  is  extinguished.' 

'Is  it  in  troth?  —  ay,  like  enough;  then  good  Sir  Geof- 
frey is  gone  to  Heaven  with  my  old  Roger  Raine ! ' 

12 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Sacred  Heaven!'  exclaimed  Peveril;  'when  was  my 
father  taken  ill?' 

'Never,  as  I  knows  of,'  said  the  dame;  'but,  about 
three  hours  since,  arrived  a  party  at  the  castle,  with  buff- 
coats  and  bandeliers,  and  one  of  the  Parliament's  folks, 
like  in  Oliver's  time.  My  old  Roger  Raine  would  have 
shut  the  gates  of  the  inn  against  them,  but  he  is  in  the 
church-yard,  and  Matt  says  it  is  against  law;  and  so 
they  came  in  and  refreshed  men  and  horse,  and  sent  for 
Master  Bridgenorth,  that  is  at  Moultrassie  Hall  even 
now;  and  so  they  went  up  to  the  castle,  and  there  was 
a  fray,  it  is  like,  as  the  old  knight  was  no  man  to  take 
napping,  as  poor  Roger  Raine  used  to  say.  Always  the 
officers  had  the  best  on 't ;  and  reason  there  is,  since  they 
had  law  of  their  side,  as  our  Matthew  says.  But  since 
the  pole-star  of  the  castle  is  out,  as  your  honour  says, 
why,  doubtless,  the  old  gentleman  is  dead.' 

'  Gracious  Heaven !  Dear  dame,  for  love  or  gold,  let  me 
have  a  horse,  to  make  for  the  castle ! ' 

'The  castle!'  said  the  dame.  'The  Roundheads,  as 
my  poor  Roger  called  them,  will  kill  you  as  they  have 
killed  your  father.  Better  creep  into  the  woodhouse,  and 
I  will  send  Bett  with  a  blanket  and  some  supper.  Or 
stay  —  my  old  Dobbin  stands  in  the  little  stable  beside 
the  hen-coop  —  e'en  take  him,  and  make  the  best  of  your 
way  out  of  the  country,  for  there  is  no  safety  here  for 
you.  Hear  what  songs  some  of  them  are  singing  at  the 
tap!  So  take  Dobbin,  and  do  not  forget  to  leave  your 
own  horse  instead.' 

Peveril  waited  to  hear  no  further,  only  that,  just  as  he 
turned  to  go  oflf  to  the  stable,  the  compassionate  female 
was  heard  to  exclaim  — '  O  Lord !  what  will  Matthew 

13 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Chamberlain  say?'  but  instantly  added,  'Let  him  say 
what  he  will,  I  may  dispose  of  what's  my  own.' 

With  the  haste  of  a  double-fee'd  hostler  did  Julian 
exchange  the  equipments  of  his  jaded  brute  with  poor 
Dobbin,  who  stood  quietly  tugging  at  his  rackful  of  hay, 
without  dreaming  of  the  business  which  was  that  night 
destined  for  him.  Notwithstanding  the  darkness  of  the 
place,  Julian  succeeded  marvellous  quickly  in  preparing 
for  his  journey ;  and  leaving  his  own  horse  to  find  its  way 
to  Dobbin's  rack  by  instinct,  he  leaped  upon  his  new 
acquisition,  and  spurred  him  sharply  against  the  hill, 
which  rises  steeply  from  the  village  to  the  castle.  Dobbin, 
Uttle  accustomed  to  such  exertions,  snorted,  panted,  and 
trotted  as  briskly  as  he  could,  until  at  length  he  brought 
his  rider  before  the  entrance-gate  of  his  father's  ancient 
seat. 

The  moon  was  now  rising,  but  the  portal  was  hidden 
from  its  beams,  being  situated,  as  we  have  mentioned 
elsewhere,  in  a  deep  recess  betwixt  two  large  flanking 
towers.  Peveril  dismounted,  turned  his  horse  loose,  and 
advanced  to  the  gate,  which,  contrary  to  his  expectation, 
he  found  open.  He  entered  the  large  courtyard;  and 
could  then  perceive  that  lights  yet  twinkled  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  building,  although  he  had  not  before  observed 
them,  owing  to  the  height  of  the  outward  walls.  The 
main  door,  or  great  hall-gate,  as  it  was  called,  was,  since 
the  partially  decayed  state  of  the  family,  seldom  opened, 
save  on  occasions  of  particular  ceremony.  A  smaller  pos- 
tern door  served  the  purpose  of  ordinary  entrance ;  and 
to  that  Julian  now  repaired.  This  also  was  open  —  a 
circumstance  which  would  of  itself  have  alarmed  him, 
had  he  not  already  had  so  many  causes  for  apprehension. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

His  heart  sunk  within  him  as  he  turned  to  the  left, 
through  a  small  outward  hall,  towards  the  great  parlour, 
which  the  family  usually  occupied  as  a  sitting-apart- 
ment; and  his  alarm  became  still  greater  when,  on  a 
nearer  approach,  he  heard  proceeding  from  thence  the 
murmur  of  several  voices.  He  threw  the  door  of  the 
apartment  wide;  and  the  sight  which  was  thus  dis- 
played warranted  all  the  evil  bodings  which  he  had 
entertained. 

In  front  of  him  stood  the  old  knight,  whose  arms  were 
strongly  secured,  over  the  elbows,  by  a  leathern  belt 
drawn  tight  round  them,  and  made  fast  behind;  two 
ruffianly-looking  men,  apparently  his  guards,  had  hold 
of  his  doublet.  The  scabbardless  sword  which  lay  on  the 
floor,  and  the  empty  sheath  which  hung  by  Sir  Geoffrey's 
side,  showed  the  stout  old  Cavalier  had  not  been  reduced 
to  this  state  of  bondage  without  an  attempt  at  resist- 
ance. Two  or  three  persons,  having  their  backs  turned 
towards  Julian,  sat  round  a  table,  and  appeared  engaged 
in  writing;  the  voices  which  he  had  heard  were  theirs,  as 
they  murmured  to  each  other.  Lady  Peveril  —  the  em- 
blem of  death,  so  pallid  was  her  countenance  —  stood 
at  the  distance  of  a  yard  or  two  from  her  husband,  upon 
whom  her  eyes  were  fixed  with  an  intenseness  of  gaze 
like  that  of  one  who  looks  her  last  on  the  object  which 
she  loves  the  best.  She  was  the  first  to  perceive  JuHan, 
and  she  exclaimed,  'Merciful  Heaven!  my  son!  —  the 
misery  of  our  house  is  complete ! ' 

*  My  son ! '  echoed  Sir  Geoffrey,  starting  from  the  sul- 
len state  of  dejection,  and  swearing  a  deep  oath;  'thou 
art  come  in  the  right  time,  Julian.  Strike  me  one  good 
blow  —  cleave  me  that  traitorous  thief  from  the  crown 

IS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  the  brisket!  and  that  done,  I  care  not  what  comes 
next' 

The  sight  of  his  father's  situation  made  the  son  forget 
the  inequality  of  the  contest  which  he  was  about  to  pro- 
voke. 

'Villains/  he  said,  'unhand  him!'  and,  rushing  on  the 
guards  with  his  drawn  sword,  compelled  them  to  let  go 
Sir  Geoffrey  and  stand  on  their  own  defence. 

Sir  Geoffrey,  thus  far  liberated,  shouted  to  his  lady, 
*Undo  the  belt,  dame,  and  we  will  have  three  good  blows 
for  it  yet ;  they  must  fight  well  that  beat  both  father  and 
son!' 

But  one  of  those  men  who  had  started  up  from  the 
writing-table  when  the  fray  commenced  prevented  Lady 
Peveril  from  rendering  her  husband  this  assistance; 
while  another  easily  mastered  the  hampered  knight, 
though  not  without  receiving  several  severe  kicks  from 
his  heavy  boots  —  his  condition  permitting  him  no  other 
mode  of  defence.  A  third,  who  saw  that  Julian,  young, 
active,  and  animated  with  the  fury  of  a  son  who  fights 
for  his  parents,  was  compelling  the  two  guards  to  give 
groimd,  seized  on  his  collar,  and  attempted  to  master  his 
sword.  Suddenly  dropping  that  weapon  and  snatching 
one  of  his  pistols,  Julian  fired  it  at  the  head  of  the  person 
by  whom  he  was  thus  assailed.  He  did  not  drop,  but 
staggering  back  as  if  he  had  received  a  severe  blow, 
showed  Peveril,  as  he  sunk  into  a  chair,  the  features  of 
old  Bridgenorth,  blackened  with  the  explosion,  which 
had  even  set  fire  to  a  part  of  his  grey  hair.  A  cry  of 
astonishment  escaped  from  Julian ;  and  in  the  alarm  and 
horror  of  the  moment  he  was  easily  secured  and  disarmed 
by  those  with  whom  he  had  been  at  first  engaged. 

i6 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Heed  it  not,  Julian/  said  Sir  Geoffrey  —  'heed  it  not, 
my  brave  boy;  that  shot  has  balanced  all  accompts.  But 
how  —  what  the  devil  —  he  lives !  Was  your  pistol 
loaded  with  chaff,  or  has  the  foul  fiend  given  him  proof 
against  lead?' 

There  was  some  reason  for  Sir  Geoffrey's  surprise, 
since,  as  he  spoke.  Major  Bridgenorth  collected  himself, 
sat  up  in  the  chair  as  one  who  recovers  from  a  stunning 
blow,  then  rose,  and  wiping  with  his  handkerchief  the 
marks  of  the  explosion  from  his  face,  he  approached  Ju- 
lian, and  said,  in  the  same  cold  unaltered  tone  in  which 
he  usually  expressed  himself,  'Young  man,  you  have 
reason  to  bless  God,  who  has  this  day  saved  you  from 
the  commission  of  a  great  crime.' 

'Bless  the  devil,  ye  crop-eared  knave!'  exclaimed  Sir 
Geoffrey;  'for  nothing  less  than  the  father  of  all  fanatics 
saved  your  brains  from  being  blown  about  Uke  the  rins- 
ings of  Beelzebub's  porridge-pot!' 

'Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  'I  have  al- 
ready told  you,  that  with  you  I  will  hold  no  argument; 
for  to  you  I  am  not  accountable  for  any  of  my  actions.' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  the  lady,  making  a  strong 
effort  to  speak,  and  to  speak  with  calmness,  'whatever 
revenge  your  Christian  state  of  conscience  may  permit 
you  to  take  on  my  husband  —  I  —  I,  who  have  some 
right  to  experience  compassion  at  your  hand  —  for  most 
sincerely  did  I  compassionate  you  when  the  hand  of 
Heaven  was  heavy  on  you  —  I  implore  you  not  to  in- 
volve my  son  in  our  common  ruin !  Let  the  destruction 
of  the  father  and  mother,  with  the  ruin  of  our  ancient 
house,  satisfy  your  resentment  for  any  wrong  which 
you  have  ever  received  at  my  husband's  hand.' 

88  17 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Hold  your  peace,  housewife/  said  the  knight;  'you 
speak  like  a  fool,  and  meddle  with  what  concerns  you 
not.  Wrong  at  my  hand?  The  cowardly  knave  has  ever 
had  but  even  too  much  right.  Had  I  cudgelled  the  cur 
soundly  when  he  first  bayed  at  me,  the  cowardly  mon- 
grel had  been  now  crouching  at  my  feet,  instead  of  flying 
at  my  throat.  But  if  I  get  through  this  action,  as  I  have 
got  through  worse  weather,  I  will  pay  o£f  old  scores,  as 
far  as  tough  crab-tree  and  cold  iron  will  bear  me  out.' 

'Sir  Geoffrey,'  replied  Bridgenorth,  'if  the  birth  you 
boast  of  has  made  you  blind  to  better  principles,  it  might 
have  at  least  taught  you  civility.  What  do  you  complain 
of?  I  am  a  magistrate;  and  I  execute  a  warrant,  ad- 
dressed to  me  by  the  first  authority  in  the  state.  I  am  a 
creditor  also  of  yours;  and  law  arms  me  with  powers 
to  recover  my  own  property  from  the  hands  of  an 
improvident  debtor.' 

'You  a  magistrate!'  said  the  knight;  'much  such  a 
magistrate  as  Noll  was  a  monarch.  Your  heart  is  up, 
I  warrant,  because  you  have  the  King's  pardon,  and  are 
replaced  on  the  bench,  forsooth,  to  persecute  the  poor 
Papist.  There  was  never  turmoil  in  the  state,  but  knaves 
had  their  vantage  by  it;  never  pot  boiled,  but  the  scum 
was  cast  uppermost.' 

'For  God's  sake,  my  dearest  husband,'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  'cease  this  wild  talk!  It  can  but  incense  Master 
Bridgenorth,  who  might  otherwise  consider  that  in  com- 
mon charity  — ' 

'Incense  him!'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  impatiently  inter- 
rupting her;  'God's  death,  madam,  you  will  drive  me 
mad!  Have  you  lived  so  long  in  this  world,  and  yet  ex- 
pect consideration  and  charity  from  an  old  starved  wolf 

i8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

like  that?  And  if  he  had  it,  do  you  think  that  I,  or  you, 
madam,  as  my  wife,  are  subjects  for  his  charity?  Julian^ 
my  poor  fellow,  I  am  sorry  thou  hast  come  so  unluckily, 
since  thy  petronel  was  not  better  loaded;  but  thy  credit 
is  lost  for  ever  as  a  marksman.' 

This  angry  colloquy  passed  so  rapidly  on  all  sides, 
that  JuHan,  scarce  recovered  from  the  extremity  of  as- 
tonishment with  which  he  was  overwhelmed  at  finding 
himself  suddenly  plunged  into  a  situation  of  such  extrem- 
ity, had  no  time  to  consider  in  what  way  he  could  most 
effectually  act  for  the  succour  of  his  parents.  To  speak 
Bridgenorth  fair  seemed  the  more  prudent  course;  but 
to  this  his  pride  could  hardly  stoop;  yet  he  forced  himself 
to  say,  with  as  much  calmness  as  he  could  assume,  'Mas- 
ter Bridgenorth,  since  you  act  as  a  magistrate,  I  desire 
to  be  treated  according  to  the  laws  of  England,  and  de- 
mand to  know  of  what  we  are  accused,  and  by  whose 
authority  we  are  arrested? ' 

'Here  is  another  howlet  for  ye!'  exclaimed  the  im- 
petuous old  knight;  'his  mother  speaks  to  a  Puritan  of 
charity;  and  thou  must  talk  of  law  to  a  Roundheaded 
rebel,  with  a  wannion  to  you!  What  warrant  hath  he, 
think  ye,  beyond  the  Parliament's  or  the  devil's?' 

*  Who  speaks  of  the  ParHament? '  said  a  person  enter- 
ing, whom  Peveril  recognised  as  the  ofl5cial  person  whom 
he  had  before  seen  at  the  horse-dealer's,  and  who  now 
bustled  in  with  all  the  conscious  dignity  of  plenary  au- 
thority —  'who  talks  of  the  Parliament?'  he  exclaimed. 
'  I  promise  you,  enough  has  been  found  in  this  house  to 
convict  twenty  plotters.  Here  be  arms,  and  that  good 
store.    Bring  them  in,  captain.' 

'The  very  same,'  exclaimed  the  captain,  approaching, 

19 


;,WAvERLEY  NOVELS 

'which  I  mention  in  my  printed  Narrative  of  Informa- 
tion, lodged  before  the  Honourable  House  of  Commons; 
they  were  commissioned  from  old  Vander  Huys  of 
Rotterdam,  by  orders  of  Don  John  of  Austria,  for  the 
service  of  the  Jesuits.' 

'Now,  by  this  light,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  'they  are  the 
pikes,  musketoons,  and  pistols  that  have  been  hidden 
in  the  garret  ever  since  Naseby  fight!' 

'And  here,'  said  the  captain's  yoke-fellow,  Everett, 
*are  proper  priest's  trappings  —  antiphoners,  and  mis- 
sals, and  copes,  I  warrant  you  —  ay,  and  proper  pictures, 
too,  for  Papists  to  mutter  and  bow  over.' 

'Now,  plague  on  thy  snuffling  whine,'  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey; 'here  is  a  rascal  will  swear  my  grandmother's  old 
farthingale  to  be  priest's  vestments,  and  the  story-book 
of  "  Owlenspiegel "  a  Popish  missal!' 

'But  how's  this,  Master  Bridgenorth?'  said  Topham, 
addressing  the  magistrate.  'Your  honour  has  been  as 
busy  as  we  have;  and  you  have  caught  another  knave 
while  we  recovered  these  toys.' 

'I  think,  sir,'  said  Julian,  'if  you  look  into  your  war- 
rant, which,  if  I  mistake  not,  names  the  persons  whom 
you  are  directed  to  arrest,  you  will  find  you  have  no 
title  to  apprehend  me.' 

'Sir,'  said  the  officer,  puflSng  with  importance,  'I  do 
not  know  who  you  are;  but  I  would  you  were  the  best 
man  in  England,  that  I  might  teach  you  the  respect  due 
to  the  warrant  of  the  House.  Sir,  there  steps  not  the 
man  within  the  British  seas  but  I  will  arrest  him  on  au- 
thority of  this  bit  of  parchment;  and  I  do  arrest  you 
accordingly.   What  do  you  accuse  him  of,  gentlemen?' 

Dangerfield  swaggered  forward,  and  peeping  under 
20 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Julian's  hat,  'Stop  my  vital  breath,'  he  exclaimed,  'but 
I  have  seen  you  before,  my  friend,  an  I  could  but  think 
where;  but  my  memory  is  not  worth  a  bean,  since  I  have 
been  obliged  to  use  it  so  much  of  late,  in  the  behalf  of  the 
poor  state.  But  I  do  know  the  fellow;  and  I  have  seen 
him  amongst  the  Papists  —  I  '11  take  that  on  my  assured 
damnation.' 

'Why,  Captain  Dangerfield,'  said  the  captain's 
smoother  but  more  dangerous  associate, '  verily,  it  is  the 
same  youth  whom  we  saw  at  the  horse-merchant's  yes- 
terday; and  we  had  matter  against  him  then,  only  Mas- 
ter Topham  did  not  desire  us  to  bring  it  out.' 

*Ye  may  bring  out  what  ye  will  against  him  now,' 
said  Topham,  'for  he  hath  blasphemed  the  warrant  of  the 
House.   I  think  ye  said  ye  saw  him  somewhere?' 

'Ay,  verily,'  said  Everett,  'I  have  seen  him  amongst 
the  seminary  pupils  at  St.  Omer's;  he  was  who  but  he 
with  the  regents  there.' 

'Nay,  Master  Everett,  collect  yourself,'  said  Topham ; 
'for,  as  I  think,  you  said  you  saw  him  at  a  consult  of  the 
Jesuits  in  London.' 

'It  was  I  said  so.  Master  Topham,'  said  the  un- 
daunted Dangerfield;  'and  mine  is  the  tongue  that  will 
swear  it.' 

'Good  Master  Topham,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'you  may 
suspend  further  inquiry  at  present,  as  it  doth  but  fatigue 
and  perplex  the  memory  of  the  king's  witnesses.' 

'You  are  wrong,  Master  Bridgenorth — clearly  wrong. 
It  doth  but  keep  them  in  wind  —  only  breathes  them, 
like  greyhounds  before  a  coursing-match.' 

'Be  it  so,'  said  Bridgenorth,  with  his  usual  indifference 
of  manner;  'but  at  present  this  youth  must  stand  com- 

21 


IWAVERLEY  NOVELS 

mitted  upon  a  warrant,  which  I  will  presently  sign,  of 
having  assaulted  me  while  in  discharge  of  my  duty  as  a 
magistrate,  for  the  rescue  of  a  person  legally  attached. 
Did  you  not  hear  the  report  of  a  pistol?' 

'I  will  swear  to  it,'  said  Everett. 

'And  I,'  said  Dangerfield.  'While  we  were  making 
search  in  the  cellar,  I  heard  something  very  like  a  pistol- 
shot;  but  I  conceived  it  to  be  the  drawing  of  a  long- 
corked  bottle  of  sack,  to  see  whether  there  were  any 
Popish  relics  in  the  inside  on't.' 

'A  pistol-shot!'  exclaimed  Topham;  'here  might  have 
been  a  second  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey's  matter.  Oh, 
thou  real  spawn  of  the  red  old  dragon !  for  he  too  would 
have  resisted  the  House's  warrant,  had  we  not  taken 
him  something  at  unawares.  Master  Bridgenorth,  you 
are  a  judicious  magistrate  and  a  worthy  servant  of  the 
state;  I  would  we  had  many  such  sound  Protestant 
justices.  Shall  I  have  this  young  fellow  away  with  his 
parents  —  what  think  you?  or  will  you  keep  him  for 
reexamination?' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  Lady  Peveril,  in  spite  of 
her  husband's  efforts  to  interrupt  her,  'for  God's  sake, 
if  ever  you  knew  what  it  was  to  love  one  of  the  many 
children  you  have  lost,  or  her  who  is  now  left  to  you,  do 
not  pursue  your  vengeance  to  the  blood  of  my  poor  boy ! 
I  will  forgive  you  all  the  rest  —  all  the  distress  you  have 
wrought  —  all  the  yet  greater  misery  with  which  you 
threaten  us;  but  do  not  be  extreme  with  one  who  never 
can  have  offended  you.  Believe,  that  if  your  ears  are 
shut  against  the  cry  of  a  despairing  mother,  those  which 
are  open  to  the  complaint  of  all  who  sorrow  will  hear  my 
petition  and  your  answer.' 

22 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  agony  of  mind  and  of  voice  with  which  Lady 
Peveril  uttered  these  words  seemed  to  thrill  through  all 
present,  though  most  of  them  were  but  too  much  inured 
to  such  scenes.  Every  one  was  silent  when,  ceasing  to 
speak,  she  fixed  on  Bridgenorth  her  eyes,  glistening  with 
tears,  with  the  eager  anxiety  of  one  whose  life  or  death 
seemed  to  depend  upon  the  answer  to  be  returned.  Even 
Bridgenorth's  inflexibility  seemed  to  be  shaken;  and  his 
voice  was  tremulous,  as  he  answered,  'Madam,  I  would 
to  God  I  had  the  present  means  of  reUeving  your  great 
distress  otherwise  than  by  recommending  to  you  a  reli- 
ance upon  Providence;  and  that  you  take  heed  to  your 
spirit,  that  it  murmur  not  under  this  crook  in  your  lot. 
For  me,  I  am  but  as  a  rod  in  the  hand  of  the  strong  man, 
which  smites  not  of  itself,  but  because  it  is  wielded  by 
the  arm  of  him  who  holds  the  same.' 

*  Even  as  I  and  my  black  rod  are  guided  by  the  Com- 
mons of  England,'  said  Master  Topham,  who  seemed 
marvellously  pleased  with  the  illustration. 

Julian  now  thought  it  time  to  say  something  in  his  own 
behalf;  and  he  endeavoured  to  temper  it  with  as  much 
composure  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to  assume.  '  Master 
Bridgenorth,'  he  said,  *I  neither  dispute  your  authority 
nor  this  gentleman's  warrant  — ' 

*  You  do  not? '  said  Topham.  '  O  ho,  master  youngster, 
I  thought  we  should  bring  you  to  your  senses  presently ! ' 

'Then,  if  you  so  will  it,  Master  Topham,'  said  Bridge- 
north,  '  thus  it  shall  be.  You  shall  set  out  with  early  day, 
taking  with  you,  towards  London,  the  persons  of  Sir 
Geoffrey  and  Lady  Peveril;  and  that  they  may  travel 
according  to  their  quality,  you  will  allow  them  their 
coach,  sufficiently  guarded.' 

23 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'I  will  travel  with  them  myself,'  said  Topham;  'for 
these  rough  Derbyshire  roads  are  no  easy  riding;  and 
my  very  eyes  are  weary  with  looking  on  these  bleak 
hills.  In  the  coach  I  can  sleep  as  sound  as  if  I  were  in 
the  House,  and  Master  Bodderbrains  on  his  legs.' 

''  It  will  become  you  so  to  take  your  ease.  Master  Top- 
ham,'  answered  Bridgenorth.  'For  this  youth,  I  will 
take  him  under  my  charge  and  bring  him  up  my- 
self.' 

'I  may  not  be  answerable  for  that,  worthy  Master 
Bridgenorth,'  said  Topham,  'since  he  comes  within  the 
warrant  of  the  House.' 

'Nay,  but,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'he  is  only  under  cus- 
tody for  an  assault,  with  the  purpose  of  a  rescue;  and  I 
counsel  you  against  meddling  with  him,  unless  you  have 
stronger  guard.  Sir  Geoffrey  is  now  old  and  broken,  but 
this  young  fellow  is  in  the  flower  of  his  youth,  and  hath 
at  his  beck  all  the  debauched  young  Cavaliers  of  the 
neighbourhood.  You  will  scarce  cross  the  country  with- 
out a  rescue.' 

Topham  eyed  Julian  wistfully,  as  a  spider  may  be  sup- 
posed to  look  upon  a  stray  wasp  which  has  got  into  his 
web,  and  which  he  longs  to  secure,  though  he  fears  the 
consequences  of  attempting  him. 

Julian  himself  repUed,  '  I  know  not  if  this  separation 
be  well  or  ill  meant  on  your  part.  Master  Bridgenorth; 
but  on  mine,  I  am  only  desirous  to  share  the  fate  of  my 
parents ;  and  therefore  I  will  give  my  word  of  honour  to 
attempt  neither  rescue  nor  escape,  on  condition  you  do 
not  separate  me  from  them.' 

'Do  not  say  so,  Julian,'  said  his  mother.  'Abide  with 
Master  Bridgenorth;  my  mind  tells  me  he  cannot  mean 

24 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

so  ill  by  us  as  his  rough  conduct  would  now  lead  us  to 
infer.' 

'And  I,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  'know,  that  between  the 
doors  of  my  father's  house  and  the  gates  of  hell  there 
steps  not  such  a  villain  on  the  ground.  And  if  I  wish 
my  hands  ever  to  be  unbound  again,  it  is  because  I 
hope  for  one  downright  blow  at  a  grey  head  that  has 
hatched  more  treason  than  the  whole  Long  Parlia- 
ment.' 

'Away  with  thee!'  said  the  zealous  officer;  'is  Parlia- 
ment a  word  for  so  foul  a  mouth  as  thine?  Gentlemen,' 
he  added,  turning  to  Everett  and  Dangerfield,  'you  will 
bear  witness  to  this.' 

'To  his  having  reviled  the  House  of  Commons  —  by 
G — d,  that  I  will ! '  said  Dangerfield ; '  I  will  take  it  on  my 
damnation.' 

'And  verily,'  said  Everett,  'as  he  spoke  of  Parliament 
generally,  he  hath  even  contemned  the  House  of  Lords 
also.' 

'Why,  ye  poor  insignificant  wretches,'  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey, 'whose  very  Hfe  is  a  He,  and  whose  bread  is  perjury, 
would  you  pervert  my  inno^^ent  words  almost  as  soon  as 
they  have  quitted  my  lips?  I  tell  you  the  country  is  well 
weary  of  you;  and  should  Englishmen  come  to  their 
senses,  the  jail,  the  pillory,  the  whipping-post,  and  the 
gibbet  will  be  too  good  preferment  for  such  base  blood- 
suckers. And  now.  Master  Bridgenorth,  you  and  they 
may  do  your  worst;  for  I  will  not  open  my  mouth  to 
utter  a  single  word  while  I  am  in  the  company  of  such 
knaves.' 

'Perhaps,  Sir  Geoffrey,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'you 
would  better  have  consulted  your  own  safety  in  adopt- 

25 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

ing  that  resolution  a  little  sooner:  the  tongue  is  a  little 
member,  but  it  causes  much  strife.  You,  Master  Julian, 
will  please  to  follow  me,  and  without  remonstrance  or 
resistance;  for  you  must  be  aware  that  I  have  the  means 
of  compelling.' 

JuHan  was,  indeed,  but  too  sensible  that  he  had  no 
other  course  but  that  of  submission  to  superior  force; 
but  ere  he  left  the  apartment  he  kneeled  down  to  receive 
his  father's  blessing,  which  the  old  man  bestowed  not 
without  a  tear  in  his  eye,  and  in  the  emphatic  words, 
'  God  bless  thee,  my  boy,  and  keep  thee  good  and  true  to 
church  and  king,  whatever  wind  shall  bring  foul  weather ! ' 

His  mother  was  only  able  to  pass  her  hand  over  his 
head,  and  to  implore  him,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  not  to 
be  rash  or  violent  in  any  attempt  to  render  them  assist- 
ance. 'We  are  innocent,'  she  said,  *my  son  —  we  are 
innocent;  and  we  are  in  God's  hands.  Be  the  thought 
our  best  comfort  and  protection.' 

Bridgenorth  now  signed  to  Julian  to  follow  him,  which 
he  did,  accompanied,  or  rather  conducted,  by  the  two 
guards  who  had  first  disarmed  him.  When  they  had 
passed  from  the  apartment,  and  were  at  the  door  of  the 
outward  hall,  Bridgenorth  asked  Julian  whether  he 
should  consider  him  as  imder  parole;  in  which  case,  he 
said,  he  would  dispense  with  all  other  security  but  his 
own  promise. 

Peveril,  who  could  not  help  hoping  somewhat  from  the 
favourable  and  unresentful  manner  in  which  he  was 
treated  by  one  whose  life  he  had  so  recently  attempted, 
replied,  without  hesitation,  that  he  would  give  his  parole 
for  twenty-four  hours,  neither  to  attempt  to  escape  by 
force  nor  by  flight. 

26 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*It  is  wisely  said,'  replied  Bridgenorth;  'for  though 
you  might  cause  bloodshed,  be  assured  that  your  utmost 
efforts  could  do  no  service  to  your  parents.  Horses  there 
—  horses  to  the  courtyard ! ' 

The  tramping  of  the  horses  was  soon  heard;  and  in 
obedience  to  Bridgenorth's  signal,  and  in  compliance 
with  his  promise,  Julian  mounted  one  which  was  pre- 
sented to  him,  and  prepared  to  leave  the  house  of  his 
fathers,  in  which  his  parents  were  now  prisoners,  and  to 
go,  he  knew  not  whither,  under  the  custody  of  one  known 
to  be  the  ancient  enemy  of  his  family.  He  was  rather 
surprised  at  observing  that  Bridgenorth  and  he  were 
about  to  travel  without  any  other  attendants. 

When  they  were  mounted,  and  as  they  rode  slowly 
towards  the  outer  gate  of  the  courtyard,  Bridgenorth 
said  to  him,  *It  is  not  every  one  who  would  thus  unre- 
servedly commit  his  safety,  by  travelling  at  night  and 
unaided,  with  the  hot-brained  youth  who  so  lately  at- 
tempted his  life.' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  said  Julian,  'I  might  tell  you 
truly,  that  I  knew  you  not  at  the  time  when  I  directed 
my  weapon  against  you;  but  I  must  also  add,  that  the 
cause  in  which  I  used  it  might  have  rendered  me,  even 
had  I  known  you,  a  slight  respecter  of  your  person.  At 
present,  I  do  know  you,  and  have  neither  malice  against 
your  person  nor  the  liberty  of  a  parent  to  fight  for.  Be- 
sides, you  have  my  word;  and  when  was  a  Peveril  known 
to  break  it? ' 

'Ay,'  replied  his  companion,  'a  Peveril  —  a  Peveril  of 
the  Peak !  —  a  name  which  has  long  sounded  hke  a  war- 
trumpet  in  the  land ;  but  which  has  now  perhaps  sounded 
its  last  loud  note.  Look  back,  young  man,  on  the  dark- 

27 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

some  turrets  of  your  father's  house,  which  uplift  them- 
selves as  proudly  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  as  their  owners 
raised  themselves  above  the  sons  of  their  people.  Think 
upon  your  father,  a  captive  —  yourself,  in  some  sort  a 
fugitive  —  your  Hght  quenched  —  your  glory  abased  — 
your  estate  wrecked  and  impoverished.  Think  that 
Providence  has  subjected  the  destinies  of  the  race  of 
Peveril  to  one  whom,  in  their  aristocratic  pride,  they 
held  as  a  plebeian  upstart.  Think  of  this ;  and  when  you 
again  boast  of  your  ancestry,  remember,  that  He  who 
raiseth  the  lowly  can  also  abase  the  high  in  heart.' 

Julian  did  indeed  gaze  for  an  instant,  with  a  swelling 
heart,  upon  the  dimly-seen  turrets  of  his  paternal  man- 
sion, on  which  poured  the  moonlight,  mixed  with  long 
shadows  of  the  towers  and  trees.  But  while  he  sadly 
acknowledged  the  truth  of  Bridgenorth's  observation,  he 
felt  indignant  at  his  ill-timed  triumph.  'If  fortune  had 
followed  worth,'  he  said,  'the  Castle  of  Martindale  and 
the  name  of  Peveril  had  afforded  no  room  for  their 
enemy's  vainglorious  boast.  But  those  who  have  stood 
high  on  Fortune's  wheel  must  abide  by  the  consequence 
of  its  revolutions.  Thus  much  I  will  at  least  say  for  my 
father's  house,  that  it  has  not  stood  unhonoured;  nor 
will  it  fall  —  if  it  is  to  fall  —  unlamented.  Forbear,  then, 
if  you  are  indeed  the  Christian  you  call  yourself,  to  exult 
in  the  misfortunes  of  others,  or  to  confide  in  your  own 
prosperity.  If  the  light  of  our  house  be  now  quenched, 
God  can  rekindle  it  in  His  own  good  time.' 

Peveril  broke  off  in  extreme  surprise ;  for,  as  he  spoke 
the  last  words,  the  bright  red  beams  of  the  family  beacon 
began  again  to  glimmer  from  its  wonted  watch-tower, 
checkering  the  pale  moonbeam  with  a  ruddier  glow. 

28 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Bridgenorth  also  gazed  on  this  unexpected  illumination 
with  surprise,  and  not,  as  it  seemed,  without  disquietude. 
'Young  man,'  he  resumed,  'it  can  scarcely  be  but  that 
Heaven  intends  to  work  great  things  by  your  hand,  so 
singularly  has  that  augury  followed  on  your  words.' 

So  sa3ang,  he  put  his  horse  once  more  in  motion ;  and 
looking  back,  from  time  to  time,  as  if  to  assure  himself 
that  the  beacon  of  the  castle  was  actually  rekindled,  he 
led  the  way  through  the  well-known  paths  and  alleys,  to 
his  own  house  of  Moultrassie,  followed  by  Peveril,  who, 
although  sensible  that  the  light  might  be  altogether  acci- 
dental, could  not  but  receive  as  a  good  omen  an  event  so 
intimately  connected  with  the  traditions  and  usages  of 
his  family. 

They  alighted  at  the  hall-door,  which  was  hastily 
opened  by  a  female;  and  while  the  deep  tone  of  Bridge- 
north  called  on  the  groom  to  take  their  horses,  the  well- 
known  voice  of  his  daughter  Alice  was  heard  to  exclaim 
in  thanksgiving  to  God,  who  had  restored  her  father  in 
safety. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

We  meet,  as  men  see  phantoms  in  a  dream, 
Which  glide,  and  sigh,  and  sign,  and  move  their  lips, 
But  make  no  sound;  or,  if  they  utter  voice, 
'T  is  but  a  low  and  undistinguish'd  moaning. 
Which  has  nor  word  nor  sense  of  utter'd  sound. 

The  Chie/tain. 

We  said,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  last  chapter,  that  a 
female  form  appeared  at  the  door  of  Moultrassie  Hall; 
and  that  the  well-known  accents  of  Alice  Bridgenorth 
were  heard  to  hail  the  return  of  her  father,  from  what  she 
naturally  dreaded  as  a  perilous  visit  to  the  Castle  of  Mar- 
tindale. 

Julian,  who  followed  his  conductor  with  a  throbbing 
heart  into  the  lighted  hall,  was  therefore  prepared  to  see 
her  whom  he  best  loved  with  her  arms  thrown  around 
her  father.  The  instant  she  had  quitted  his  paternal 
embrace,  she  was  aware  of  the  unexpected  guest  who 
had  returned  in  his  company.  A  deep  blush,  rapidly 
succeeded  by  deadly  paleness,  and  again  by  a  slighter 
suffusion,  showed  plainly  to  her  lover  that  his  sudden 
appearance  was  anything  but  indifferent  to  her.  He 
bowed  profoundly,  a  courtesy  which  she  returned  with 
equal  formality,  but  did  not  venture  to  approach  more 
nearly,  feeling  at  once  the  delicacy  of  his  own  situation 
and  of  hers. 

Major  Bridgenorth  turned  his  cold,  fixed,  grey,  mel- 
ancholy glance  first  on  the  one  of  them  and  then  on  the 
other.  '  Some,'  he  said,  gravely, '  would,  in  my  case,  have 
avoided  this  meeting;  but  I  have  confidence  in  you  both, 

30 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

although  you  are  young,  and  beset  with  the  snares 
incidental  to  your  age.  There  are  those  within  who 
should  not  know  that  ye  have  been  acquainted.  Where- 
fore, be  wise,  and  be  as  strangers  to  each  other.' 

Julian  and  Alice  exchanged  glances  as  her  father  turned 
from  them,  and,  lifting  a  lamp  which  stood  in  the  en- 
trance-hall, led  the  way  to  the  interior  apartment.  There 
was  Httle  of  consolation  in  this  exchange  of  looks;  for 
the  sadness  of  Alice's  glance  was  mingled  with  fear,  and 
that  of  Julian  clouded  by  an  anxious  sense  of  doubt. 
The  look  also  was  but  momentary;  for  AHce,  springing  to 
her  father,  took  the  light  out  of  his  hand,  and,  stepping 
before  him,  acted  as  the  usher  of  both  into  the  large 
oaken  parlour,  which  has  been  already  mentioned  as  the 
apartment  in  which  Bridgenorth  had  spent  the  hours  of 
dejection  which  followed  the  death  of  his  consort  and 
family.  It  was  now  hghted  up  as  for  the  reception  of 
company;  and  five  or  six  persons  sat  in  it,  in  the  plain, 
black,  stiff  dress  which  was  affected  by  the  formal  Puri- 
tans of  the  time,  in  evidence  of  their  contempt  of  the 
manners  of  the  luxurious  court  of  Charles  the  Second, 
amongst  whom  excess  of  extravagance  in  apparel,  like 
excess  of  every  other  kind,  was  highly  fashionable. 

JuHan  at  first  glanced  his  eyes  but  slightly  along  the 
range  of  grave  and  severe  faces  which  composed  this 
society  —  men,  sincere  perhaps  in  their  pretensions  to  a 
superior  purity  of  conduct  and  morals,  but  in  whom  that 
high  praise  was  somewhat  chastened  by  an  affected 
austerity  in  dress  and  manners  allied  to  those  Pharisees 
of  old  who  made  broad  their  phylacteries,  and  would 
be  seen  of  men  to  fast,  and  to  discharge  with  rigid  punc- 
tuality the  observances  of  the  law.  Their  dress  was  al- 

31 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

most  uniformly  a  black  cloak  and  doublet,  cut  straight 
and  close,  and  undecorated  with  lace  or  embroidery  of 
any  kind,  black  Flemish  breeches  and  hose,  square-toed 
shoes,  with  large  roses  made  of  serge  ribbon.  Two  or 
three  had  huge  loose  boots  of  calf-leather,  and  almost 
every  one  was  begirt  with  a  long  rapier,  which  was  sus- 
pended by  leathern  thongs  to  a  plain  belt  of  buff  or  of 
black  leather.  One  or  two  of  the  elder  guests,  whose  hair 
had  been  thinned  by  time,  had  their  heads  covered  with 
a  skullcap  of  black  silk  or  velvet,  which,  being  drawn 
down  betwixt  the  ears  and  the  skull,  and  permitting  no 
hair  to  escape,  occasioned  the  former  to  project  in  the 
ungraceful  manner  which  may  be  remarked  in  old  pic- 
tures, and  which  procured  for  the  Puritans  the  term  of 
'prick-eared  Romidheads,'  so  unceremoniously  applied 
to  them  by  their  contemporaries. 

These  worthies  were  ranged  against  the  wall,  each  in 
his  ancient,  high-backed,  long-legged  chair;  neither  look- 
ing towards,  nor  apparently  discoursing  with,  each  other; 
but  plunged  in  their  own  reflections,  or  awaiting,  like  an 
assembly  of  Quakers,  the  quickening  power  of  Divine 
inspiration. 

Major  Bridgenorth  glided  along  this  formal  society 
with  noiseless  step,  and  a  composed  severity  of  manner 
resembling  their  own.  He  paused  before  each  in  succes- 
sion, and  apparently  communicated,  as  he  passed,  the 
transactions  of  the  evening,  and  the  circumstances  under 
which  the  heir  of  Martindale  Castle  was  now  a  guest  at 
Moultrassie  Hall.  Each  seemed  to  stir  at  his  brief  detail, 
like  a  range  of  statues  in  an  enchanted  hall,  starting  into 
something  like  life  as  a  talisman  is  appHed  to  them  suc- 
cessively. Most  of  them,  as  they  heard  the  narrative  of 

32 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

their  host,  cast  upon  Julian  a  look  of  curiosity,  blended 
with  haughty  scorn  and  the  consciousness  of  spiritual 
superiority;  though,  in  one  or  two  instances,  the  milder 
influences  of  compassion  were  sufficiently  visible.  Peveril 
would  have  undergone  this  gauntlet  of  eyes  with  more 
impatience  had  not  his  own  been  for  the  time  engaged  in 
following  the  motions  of  AHce,  who  glided  through  the 
apartment,  and,  only  speaking  very  briefly,  and  in  whis- 
pers, to  one  or  two  of  the  company  who  addressed  her, 
took  her  place  beside  a  treble-hooded  old  lady,  the  only 
female  of  the  party,  and  addressed  herself  to  her  in  such 
earnest  conversation  as  might  dispense  with  her  raising 
her  head  or  looking  at  any  others  in  the  company. 

Her  father  put  a  question,  to  which  she  was  obliged  to 
return  an  answer  —  'Where  was  Mistress  Debbitch?' 

'She  had  gone  out,'  AHce  repHed,  'early  after  sunset, 
to  visit  some  old  acquaintances  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  she  had  not  yet  returned.' 

Major  Bridgenorth  made  a  gesture  indicative  of  dis- 
pleasure; and,  not  content  with  that,  expressed  his  deter- 
mined resolution  that  Dame  Deborah  should  no  longer 
remain  a  member  of  his  family.  'I  will  have  those,'  he 
said  aloud,  and  without  regarding  the  presence  of  his 
guests,  'and  those  only,  around  me,  who  know  to  keep 
within  the  sober  and  modest  bounds  of  a  Christian 
family.  Who  pretends  to  more  freedom  must  go  out 
from  among  us,  as  not  being  of  us.' 

A  deep  and  emphatic  humming  noise,  which  was  at 
that  time  the  mode  in  which  the  Puritans  signified  their 
applause,  as  well  of  the  doctrines  expressed  by  a  favour- 
ite divine  in  the  pulpit  as  of  those  delivered  in  private 
society,  ratified  the  approbation  of  the  assessors,  and 

28  33 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

seemed  to  secure  the  dismission  of  the  unfortunate  gov- 
ernante,  who  stood  thus  detected  of  having  strayed  out 
of  bounds.  Even  Peveril,  although  he  had  reaped  con- 
siderable advantages,  in  his  early  acquaintance  with 
Alice,  from  the  mercenary  and  gossiping  disposition  of 
her  governess,  could  not  hear  of  her  dismissal  without 
approbation,  so  much  was  he  desirous  that,  in  the  hour 
of  difficulty,  which  might  soon  approach,  Alice  might 
have  the  benefit  of  countenance  and  advice  from  one 
of  her  own  sex  of  better  manners  and  less  suspicious 
probity  than  Mistress  Debbitch. 

Almost  immediately  after  this  communication  had 
taken  place,  a  servant  in  mourning  showed  his  thin, 
pinched,  and  wrinkled  visage  in  the  apartment,  announc- 
ing, with  a  voice  more  Hke  a  passing  bell  than  the  herald 
of  a  banquet,  that  refreshments  were  provided  in  an  ad- 
joining apartment.  Gravely  leading  the  way,  with  his 
daughter  on  one  side  and  the  Puritanical  female  whom 
we  have  distinguished  on  the  other,  Bridgenorth  himself 
ushered  his  company,  who  followed  with  little  attention 
to  order  or  ceremony,  into  the  eating-room,  where  a 
substantial  supper  was  provided. 

In  this  manner,  Peveril,  although  entitled,  according 
to  ordinary  ceremonial,  to  some  degree  of  precedence  — 
a  matter  at  that  time  considered  of  much  importance, 
although  now  little  regarded  —  was  left  among  the  last 
of  those  who  quitted  the  parlour;  and  might  indeed  have 
brought  up  the  rear  of  all,  had  not  one  of  the  company, 
who  was  himself  late  in  the  retreat,  bowed  and  resigned 
to  Julian  the  rank  in  the  company  which  had  been 
usurped  by  others. 

This  act  of  poHteness  naturally  induced  Julian  to 

34 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

examine  the  features  of  the  person  who  had  ofTered  him 
this  civility;  and  he  started  to  observe,  under  the  pinched 
velvet  cap  and  above  the  short  band-strings,  the  counte- 
nance of  Ganlesse,  as  he  called  himself  —  his  companion 
on  the  preceding  evening.  He  looked  again  and  again, 
especially  when  all  were  placed  at  the  supper-board, 
and  when,  consequently,  he  had  frequent  opportunities 
of  observing  this  person  fixedly,  without  any  breach  of 
good  manners.  At  first  he  wavered  in  his  belief,  and  was 
much  inclined  to  doubt  the  reaUty  of  his  recollection;  for 
the  difference  of  dress  was  such  as  to  effect  a  considerable 
change  of  appearance;  and  the  countenance  itself,  far 
from  exliibiting  anything  marked  or  memorable,  was  one 
of  those  ordinary  visages  which  we  see  almost  without 
remarking  them,  and  which  leave  our  memory  so  soon 
as  the  object  is  withdrawn  from  our  eyes.  But  the 
impression  upon  his  mind  returned,  and  became 
stronger,  until  it  induced  him  to  watch  with  peculiar 
attention  the  manners  of  the  individual  who  had  thus 
attracted  his  notice. 

During  the  time  of  a  very  prolonged  grace  before  meat, 
which  was  delivered  by  one  of  the  company,  who,  from 
his  Geneva  band  and  serge  doublet,  presided,  as  Julian 
supposed,  over  some  dissenting  congregation,  he  noticed 
that  this  man  kept  the  same  demure  and  severe  cast  of 
countenance  usually  affected  by  the  Puritans,  and  which 
rather  caricatured  the  reverence  unquestionably  due 
upon  such  occasions.  His  eyes  were  turned  upward,  and 
his  huge  penthouse  hat,  with  a  high  crown  and  broad 
brim,  held  in  both  hands  before  him,  rose  and  fell  with 
the  cadences  of  the  speaker's  voice;  thus  marking  time, 
as  it  were,  to  the  periods  of  the  benediction.  Yet  when 

35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  slight  bustle  took  place  which  attends  the  adjusting 
of  chairs,  etc.,  as  men  sit  down  to  table,  Julian's  eye 
encountered  that  of  the  stranger;  and  as  their  looks  met, 
there  glanced  from  those  of  the  latter  an  expression  of 
satirical  humour  and  scorn,  which  seemed  to  intimate 
internal  ridicule  of  the  gravity  of  his  present  demeanour. 

Julian  again  sought  to  fix  his  eye,  in  order  to  ascertain 
that  he  had  not  mistaken  the  tendency  of  this  transient 
expression,  but  the  stranger  did  not  allow  him  another 
opportunity.  He  might  have  been  discovered  by  the 
tone  of  his  voice;  but  the  individual  in  question  spoke 
little,  and  in  whispers,  which  was  indeed  the  fashion  of 
the  whole  company,  whose  demeanour  at  table  resem- 
bled that  of  mourners  at  a  funeral  feast. 

The  entertainment  itself  was  coarse,  though  plentiful; 
and  must,  according  to  Julian's  opinion,  be  distasteful 
to  one  so  exquisitely  skilled  in  good  cheer,  and  so  capable 
of  en jo}dng,  critically  and  scientifically,  the  genial  prep- 
arations of  his  companion.  Smith,  as  Ganlesse  had  shown 
himself  on  the  preceding  evening.  Accordingly,  upon 
close  observation,  he  remarked  that  the  food  which  he 
took  upon  his  plate  remained  there  unconsumed;  and 
that  his  actual  supper  consisted  only  of  a  crust  of  bread 
with  a  glass  of  wine. 

The  repast  was  hurried  over  with  the  haste  of  those 
who  think  it  shame,  if  not  sin,  to  make  mere  animal  en- 
joyments the  means  of  consuming  time  or  of  receiving 
pleasure;  and  when  men  wiped  their  mouths  and  mus- 
tachios,  Julian  remarked  that  the  object  of  his  curiosity 
used  a  handkerchief  of  the  finest  cambric  —  an  article 
rather  inconsistent  with  the  exterior  plainness,  not  to 
say  coarseness,  of  his  appearance.  He  used  also  several 

36 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

of  the  more  minute  refinements,  then  only  observed  at 
tables  of  the  higher  rank;  and  Julian  thought  he  could 
discern  at  every  turn  something  of  courtly  manners  and 
gestures,  under  the  precise  and  rustic  simplicity  of  the 
character  which  he  had  assumed.^ 

But  if  this  were  indeed  that  same  Ganlesse  with  whom 
Julian  had  met  on  the  preceding  evening,  and  who  had 
boasted  the  facility  with  which  he  could  assume  any 
character  which  he  pleased  to  represent  for  the  time, 
what  could  be  the  purpose  of  his  present  disguise?  He 
was,  if  his  own  words  could  be  credited,  a  person  of  some 
importance,  who  dared  to  defy  the  danger  of  those  ofl5- 
cers  and  informers  before  whom  all  ranks  at  that  time 
trembled;  nor  was  he  likely,  as  Julian  conceived,  with- 
out some  strong  purpose,  to  subject  himself  to  such  a 
masquerade  as  the  present,  which  could  not  be  otherwise 
than  irksome  to  one  whose  conversation  proclaimed  him 
of  light  life  and  free  opinions.  Was  his  appearance  here 
for  good  or  for  evil?  Did  it  respect  his  father's  house,  or 
his  own  person,  or  the  family  of  Bridgenorth?  Was  the 
real  character  of  Ganlesse  known  to  the  master  of  the 
house,  inflexible  as  he  was  in  all  which  concerned  morals 
as  well  as  religion?  If  not,  might  not  the  machinations 
of  a  brain  so  subtle  affect  the  peace  and  happiness  of 
AUce  Bridgenorth? 

These  were  questions  which  no  reflection  could  enable 
Peveril  to  answer.  His  eyes  glanced  from  Alice  to  the 
stranger;  and  new  fears,  and  undefined  suspicions,  in 
which  the  safety  of  that  beloved  and  lovely  girl  was 
implicated,  mingled  with  the  deep  anxiety  which  already 

^  A  Scottish  gentleman  in  hiding,  as  it  was  emphatically  termed,  for 
some  concern  in  a  Jacobite  insurrection  or  plot,  was  discovered  among  a 
number  of  ordinary  persons  by  his  use  of  the  toothpick. 

37 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

occupied  his  mind  on  account  of  his  father  and  his 
father's  house. 

He  was  in  this  tumult  of  mind  when,  after  a  thanks- 
giving as  long  as  the  grace,  the  company  arose  from  table, 
and  were  instantly  summoned  to  the  exercise  of  family 
worship.  A  train  of  domestics,  grave,  sad,  and  melan- 
choly as  their  superiors,  glided  in  to  assist  at  this  act  of 
devotion,  and  ranged  themselves  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
apartment.  Most  of  these  men  were  armed  with  long 
tucks,  as  the  straight  stabbing  swords,  much  used 
by  Cromwell's  soldiery,  were  then  called.  Several  had 
large  pistols  also;  and  the  corslets  or  cuirasses  of  some 
were  heard  to  clank  as  they  seated  themselves  to  partake 
in  this  act  of  devotion.  The  ministry  of  him  whom  Julian 
had  supposed  a  preacher  was  not  used  on  this  occasion. 
Major  Bridgenorth  himself  read  and  expounded  a  chap- 
ter of  Scripture  with  much  strength  and  manliness  of 
expression,  although  so  as  not  to  escape  the  charge  of 
fanaticism.  The  nineteenth  chapter  of  Jeremiah  was  the 
portion  of  Scripture  which  he  selected;  in  which,  under 
the  type  of  breaking  a  potter's  vessel,  the  prophet  pre- 
sages the  desolation  of  the  Jews.  The  lecturer  was  not 
naturally  eloquent;  but  a  strong,  deep,  and  sincere  con- 
viction of  the  truth  of  what  he  said  supplied  him  with 
language  of  energy  and  fire,  as  he  drew  a  parallel  between 
the  abominations  of  the  worship  of  Baal  and  the  corrup- 
tions of  the  Church  of  Rome  —  so  favourite  a  topic  with 
the  Puritans  of  that  period;  and  denounced  against  the 
Catholics,  and  those  who  favored  them,  that  hissing  and 
desolation  which  the  prophet  directed  against  the  city  of 
Jerusalem.  His  hearers  made  a  yet  closer  application 
than  the  lecturer  himself  suggested;  and  many  a  dark 

38 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

proud  eye  intimated,  by  a  glance  on  Julian,  that  on  his 
father's  house  were  already,  in  some  part,  realised  those 
dreadful  maledictions. 

The  lecture  finished,  Bridgenorth  summoned  them  to 
unite  with  him  in  prayer;  and  on  a  sHght  change  of 
arrangements  amongst  the  company,  which  took  place 
as  they  were  about  to  kneel  down,  Julian  found  his  place 
next  to  the  single-minded  and  beautiful  object  of  his 
affection,  as  she  knelt,  in  her  loveliness,  to  adore  her 
Creator.  A  short  time  was  permitted  for  mental  devo- 
tion, during  which  Peveril  could  hear  her  half -breathed 
petition  for  the  promised  blessings  of  peace  on  earth  and 
good-will  towards  the  children  of  men. 

The  prayer  which  ensued  was  in  a  different  tone.  It 
was  poured  forth  by  the  same  person  who  had  officiated 
as  chaplain  at  the  table,  and  was  in  the  tone  of  a  Boan- 
erges, or  Son  of  Thunder  —  a  denouncer  of  crimes,  an 
invoker  of  judgments,  almost  a  prophet  of  evil  and  of 
destruction.  The  testimonies  and  the  sins  of  the  day 
were  not  forgotten:  the  mysterious  murder  of  Sir 
Edmondsbury  Godfrey  was  insisted  upon;  and  thanks 
and  praise  were  offered,  that  the  very  night  on  which 
they  were  assembled  had  not  seen  another  offering  of  a 
Protestant  magistrate  to  the  bloodthirsty  fury  of  the 
revengeful  Catholics. 

Never  had  JuHan  found  it  more  difficult,  during  an  act 
of  devotion,  to  maintain  his  mind  in  a  frame  befitting 
the  posture  and  the  occasion;  and  when  he  heard  the 
speaker  return  thanks  for  the  downfall  and  devastation 
of  his  family,  he  was  strongly  tempted  to  have  started 
upon  his  feet  and  charged  him  with  offering  a  tribute 
stained  with  falsehood  and  calumny  at  the  throne  of 

39 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS, 

truth  itself.  He  resisted,  however,  an  impulse  which  it 
would  have  been  insanity  to  have  yielded  to,  and  his 
patience  was  not  without  its  reward;  for  when  his  fair 
neighbour  arose  from  her  knees,  the  lengthened  and 
prolonged  prayer  being  at  last  concluded,  he  observed 
that  her  eyes  were  streaming  with  tears ;  and  one  glance 
with  which  she  looked  at  him  in  that  moment  showed 
more  of  affectionate  interest  for  him  in  his  fallen  for- 
tunes and  precarious  condition  than  he  had  been  able 
to  obtain  from  her  when  his  worldly  estate  seemed  so 
much  the  more  exalted  of  the  two. 

Cheered  and  fortified  with  the  con\action  that  one 
bosom  in  the  company,  and  that  in  which  he  most  ea- 
gerly longed  to  secure  an  interest,  sympathised  with  his 
distress,  he  felt  strong  to  endure  whatever  was  to  follow, 
and  shrunk  not  from  the  stern  still  smile  with  which,  one 
by  one,  the  meeting  regarded  him  as,  gliding  to  their 
several  places  of  repose,  they  indulged  themselves  at 
parting  with  a  look  of  triumph  on  one  whom  they  con- 
sidered as  their  captive  enemy. 

Alice  also  passed  by  her  lover,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  and  answered  his  low  obeisance  without  raising 
them.  The  room  was  now  empty,  but  for  Bridgenorth 
and  his  guest,  or  prisoner,  for  it  is  difficult  to  say  in 
which  capacity  Peveril  ought  to  regard  himself.  He  took 
an  old  brazen  lamp  from  the  table,  and,  leading  the  way, 
said  at  the  same  time,  'I  must  be  the uncourtly  chamber- 
lain who  am  to  usher  you  to  a  place  of  repose  more  rude, 
perhaps,  than  you  have  been  accustomed  to  occupy.' 

Julian  followed  him,  in  silence,  up  an  old-fashioned 
winding  staircase,  within  a  turret.  At  the  landing-place 
on  the  top  was  a  small  apartment,  where  an  ordinary 

40 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

pallet  bed,  two  chairs,  and  a  small  stone  table,  were  the 
only  furniture.  'Your  bed,'  continued  Bridgenorth,  as  if 
desirous  to  prolong  their  interview,  'is  not  of  the  softest; 
but  innocence  sleeps  as  sound  upon  straw  as  on  down.' 

'Sorrow,  Major  Bridgenorth,  finds  little  rest  on  either,' 
replied  JuHan.  'Tell  me,  for  you  seem  to  await  some 
question  from  me,  what  is  to  be  the  fate  of  my  parents, 
and  why  you  separate  me  from  them?' 

Bridgenorth,  for  answer,  indicated  with  his  finger  the 
mark  which  his  countenance  still  showed  from  the  explo- 
sion of  Julian's  pistol. 

'That,'  rephed  Julian,  'is  not  the  real  cause  of  your 
proceedings  against  me.  It  cannot  be  that  you,  who  have 
been  a  soldier,  and  are  a  man,  can  be  surprised  or  dis- 
pleased by  my  interference  in  the  defence  of  my  father. 
Above  all,  you  cannot,  and  I  must  needs  say  you  do  not, 
believe  that  I  would  have  raised  my  hand  against  you 
personally,  had  there  been  a  moment's  time  for  recogni- 
tion.' 

'I  may  grant  all  this,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'but  what  the 
better  are  you  for  my  good  opinion,  or  for  the  ease  with 
which  I  can  forgive  you  the  injury  which  you  aimed  at 
me?  You  are  in  my  custody  as  a  magistrate,  accused  of 
abetting  the  foul,  bloody,  and  heathenish  plot  for  the 
establishment  of  Popery,  the  murder  of  the  King,  and 
the  general  massacre  of  all  true  Protestants.' 

'And  on  what  grounds,  either  of  fact  or  suspicion,  dare 
any  one  accuse  me  of  such  a  crime? '  said  Julian.  '  I  have 
hardly  heard  of  the  plot,  save  by  the  mouth  of  common 
rumour,  which,  while  it  speaks  of  nothing  else,  takes  care 
to  say  nothing  distinctly  even  on  that  subject.' 

'It  may  be  enough  for  me  to  tell  you,'  replied  Bridge- 

41 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

north,  'and  perhaps  it  is  a  word  too  much,  that  you  are  a 
discovered  intriguer,  a  spied  spy,  who  carries  tokens  and 
messages  betwixt  the  Popish  Countess  of  Derby  and 
the  Catholic  party  in  London.  You  have  not  conducted 
your  matters  with  such  discretion  but  that  this  is  well 
known,  and  can  be  sufficiently  proved.  To  this  charge, 
which  you  are  well  aware  you  cannot  deny,  these  men, 
Everett  and  Dangerfield,  are  not  unwilling  to  add,  from 
the  recollection  of  your  face,  other  passages,  which  will 
certainly  cost  you  your  Hfe  when  you  come  before  a 
Protestant  jury.' 

'They  he  like  villains,'  said  Peveril,  'who  hold  me 
accessory  to  any  plot  either  against  the  King,  the  nation, 
or  the  state  of  rehgion;  and  for  the  countess,  her  loyalty 
has  been  too  long  and  too  highly  proved  to  permit  her 
being  impHcated  in  such  injurious  suspicions.' 

'What  she  has  already  done,'  said  Bridgenorth,  his 
face  darkening  as  he  spoke,  'against  the  faithful  cham- 
pions of  pure  religion  hath  sufficiently  shown  of  what  she 
is  capable.  She  hath  betaken  herself  to  her  rock,  and 
sits,  as  she  thinks,  in  security,  like  the  eagle  reposing 
after  his  bloody  banquet.  But  the  arrow  of  the  fowler 
may  yet  reach  her:  the  shaft  is  whetted,  the  bow  is 
bended,  and  it  will  be  soon  seen  whether  Amalek  or 
Israel  shall  prevail.  But  for  thee,  Julian  Peveril  —  why 
should  I  conceal  it  from  thee?  —  my  heart  yearns  for 
thee  as  a  woman's  for  her  first-born.  To  thee  I  will  give, 
at  the  expense  of  my  own  reputation,  perhaps  at  the 
risk  of  personal  suspicion,  for  who,  in  these  days  of 
doubt,  shall  be  exempted  from  it?  —  to  thee,  I  say,  I  will 
give  means  of  escape,  which  else  were  impossible  to  thee. 
The  staircase  of  this  turret  descends  to  the  gardens,  the 

42 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

postern  gate  is  unlatched,  on  the  right  hand  lie  the 
stables,  where  you  will  find  your  own  horse;  take  it,  and 
make  for  Liverpool.  I  will  give  you  credit  with  a  friend 
under  the  name  of  Simon  Simonson,  one  persecuted  by 
the  prelates;  and  he  will  expedite  your  passage  from  the 
kingdom.' 

'Major  Bridgenorth/  said  Julian,  'I  will  not  deceive 
you.  Were  I  to  accept  your  offer  of  freedom,  it  would  be 
to  attend  to  a  higher  call  than  that  of  mere  self-preserv- 
ation. My  father  is  in  danger,  my  mother  in  sorrow; 
the  voices  of  religion  and  nature  call  me  to  their  side.  I 
am  their  only  child  —  their  only  hope;  I  will  aid  them, 
or  perish  with  them ! ' 

'Thou  art  mad,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'aid  them  thou 
canst  not,  perish  with  them  thou  well  mayst,  and  even 
accelerate  their  ruin ;  for,  in  addition  to  the  charges  with 
which  thy  unhappy  father  is  loaded,  it  would  be  no  slight 
aggravation  that,  while  he  meditated  arming  and  calling 
together  the  CathoHcs  and  High  Churchmen  of  Cheshire 
and  Derbyshire,  his  son  should  prove  to  be  the  confiden- 
tial agent  of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  who  aided  her  in 
making  good  her  stronghold  against  the  Protestant 
commissioners,  and  was  despatched  by  her  to  open 
secret  communication  with  the  Popish  interest  in  Lon- 
don.' 

'You  have  twice  stated  me  as  such  an  agent,'  said 
Peveril,  resolved  that  his  silence  should  not  be  construed 
into  an  admission  of  the  charge,  though  he  felt  that  it 
was  in  some  degree  well  founded.  'What  reason  have 
you  for  such  an  allegation? ' 

'Will  it  sufiice  for  a  proof  of  my  intimate  acquaintance 
with  your  mystery,'  replied  Bridgenorth,  'if  I  should 

43 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

repeat  to  you  the  last  words  which  the  countess  used  to 
you  when  you  left  the  castle  of  that  Amalekitish  woman? 
Thus  she  spoke:  "I  am  now  a  forlorn  widow,"  she  said, 
"whom  sorrow  has  made  selfish."' 

Peveril  started,  for  these  were  the  very  words  the 
countess  had  used;  but  he  instantly  recovered  himself, 
and  replied,  *Be  your  information  of  what  nature  it  will, 
I  deny  and  I  defy  it  so  far  as  it  attaches  aught  like  guilt 
to  me.  There  lives  not  a  man  more  innocent  of  a  dis- 
loyal thought  or  of  a  traitorous  purpose.  What  I  say  for 
myself,  I  will,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  say  and 
maintain  on  account  of  the  noble  countess,  to  whom  I 
am  indebted  for  nurture.' 

'Perish,  then,  in  thy  obstinacy!'  said  Bridgenorth; 
and  turning  hastily  from  him,  he  left  the  room,  and 
JuHan  heard  him  hasten  down  the  narrow  staircase,  as  if 
distrusting  his  own  resolution. 

With  a  heavy  heart,  yet  with  that  confidence  in  an 
overruling  Providence  which  never  forsakes  a  good  and 
brave  man,  Peveril  betook  himself  to  his  lowly  place  of 
repose. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

The  course  of  human  life  is  changeful  still, 

As  is  the  fickle  wind  and  wandering  rill; 

Or,  like  the  light  dance  which  the  wild  breeze  weaves 

Amidst  the  faded  race  of  fallen  leaves, 

Which  now  its  breath  bears  down,  now  tosses  high. 

Beats  to  the  earth,  or  wafts  to  middle  sky. 

Such,  and  so  varied,  the  precarious  play 

Of  fate  with  man,  frail  tenant  of  a  dayl 

Anonymous. 

Whilst,  overcome  with  fatigue  and  worn  out  by  anx- 
iety, Julian  Peveril  slumbered  as  a  prisoner  in  the  house 
of  his  hereditary  enemy,  Fortune  was  preparing  his  re- 
lease by  one  of  those  sudden  frolics  with  which  she  loves 
to  confound  the  calculations  and  expectancies  of  hu- 
manity; and  as  she  fixes  on  strange  agents  for  such 
purposes,  she  condescended  to  employ,  on  the  present 
occasion,  no  less  a  personage  than  Mistress  Deborah 
Debbitch. 

Instigated,  doubtless,  by  the  pristine  reminiscences 
of  former  times,  no  sooner  had  that  most  prudent  and 
considerate  dame  found  herself  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
scenes  of  her  earlier  days  than  she  bethought  herself  of 
a  visit  to  the  ancient  housekeeper  of  Martindale  Castle, 
Dame  Ellesmere  by  name,  who,  long  retired  from 
active  service,  resided  at  the  keeper's  lodge,  in  the 
west  thicket,  with  her  nephew.  Lance  Outram,  sub- 
sisting upon  the  savings  of  her  better  days,  and  on  a 
small  pension  allowed  by  Sir  Geofifrey  to  her  age  and 
faithful  services. 

Now,  Dame  Ellesmere  and  Mistress   Deborah  had 

45 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

not  by  any  means  been  formerly  on  so  friendly  a  footing 
as  this  haste  to  visit  her  might  be  supposed  to  intimate. 
But  years  had  taught  Deborah  to  forget  and  forgive;  or 
perhaps  she  had  no  special  objection,  under  cover  of  a 
visit  to  Dame  Ellesmere,  to  take  the  chance  of  seeing 
what  changes  time  had  made  on  her  old  admirer  the 
keeper.  Both  inhabitants  were  in  the  cottage  when, 
after  having  seen  her  master  set  forth  on  his  expedition 
to  the  castle,  Mistress  Debbitch,  dressed  in  her  very 
best  gown,  footed  it  through  gutter,  and  over  stile,  and 
by  pathway  green,  to  knock  at  their  door,  and  to  lift 
the  latch  at  the  hospitable  invitation  which  bade  her 
come  in. 

Dame  Ellesmere's  eyes  were  so  dim  that,  even  with 
the  aid  of  spectacles,  she  failed  to  recognise,  in  the  portly 
and  mature  personage  who  entered  their  cottage,  the 
tight,  well-made  lass  who,  presuming  on  her  good  looks 
and  flippant  tongue,  had  so  often  provoked  her  by 
insubordination;  and  her  former  lover,  the  redoubted 
Lance,  not  being  conscious  that  ale  had  given  rotundity 
to  his  own  figure,  which  was  formerly  so  slight  and  ac- 
tive, and  that  brandy  had  transferred  to  his  nose  the 
colour  which  had  once  occupied  his  cheeks,  was  unable 
to  discover  that  Deborah's  French  cap,  composed  of 
sarsenet  and  Brussels  lace,  shaded  the  features  which  had 
so  often  procured  him  a  rebuke  from  Dr.  Dummerar, 
for  suffering  his  eyes,  during  the  time  of  prayers,  to 
wander  to  the  maid-servants'  bench. 

In  brief,  the  blushing  visitor  was  compelled  to  make 
herself  known;  and  when  known,  was  received  by  aunt 
and  nephew  with  the  most  sincere  cordiality. 

The  home-brewed  was  produced ;  and,  in  lieu  of  more 

46 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

vulgar  food,  a  few  slices  of  venison  presently  hissed  in  the 
frying-pan,  giving  strong  room  for  inference  that  Lance 
Outram,  in  his  capacity  of  keeper,  neglected  not  his  own 
cottage  when  he  supplied  the  larder  at  the  castle.  A 
modest  sip  of  the  excellent  Derbyshire  ale  and  a  taste  of 
the  highly-seasoned  hash  soon  placed  Deborah  entirely 
at  home  with  her  old  acquaintance. 

Having  put  all  necessary  questions,  and  received  all 
suitable  answers,  respecting  the  state  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  such  of  her  own  friends  as  continued  to  reside 
there,  the  conversation  began  rather  to  flag,  until  De- 
borah found  the  art  of  again  renewing  its  interest  by 
communicating  to  her  friends  the  dismal  intelligence 
that  'They  must  soon  look  for  deadly  bad  news  from  the 
castle;  for  that  her  present  master.  Major  Bridgenorth, 
had  been  summoned  by  some  great  people  from  London 
to  assist  in  taking  her  old  master.  Sir  Geoffrey;  and  that 
all  Master  Bridgenorth's  servants,  and  several  other  per- 
sons whom  she  named,  friends  and  adherents  of  the  same 
interest,  had  assembled  a  force  to  surprise  the  castle; 
and  that  as  Sir  Geoffrey  was  now  so  old,  and  gouty 
withal,  it  could  not  be  expected  he  should  make  the  de- 
fence he  was  wont;  and  then  he  was  known  to  be  so 
stout-hearted,  that  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  he 
would  yield  up  without  stroke  of  sword;  and  then  if  he 
was  killed,  as  he  was  likely  to  be,  amongst  them  that 
liked  never  a  bone  of  his  body,  and  now  had  him  at  their 
mercy,  why,  in  that  case,  she.  Dame  Deborah,  would 
look  upon  Lady  Peveril  as  little  better  than  a  dead 
woman;  and  undoubtedly  there  would  be  a  general 
mourning  through  all  that  country,  where  they  had  such 
great  kin;  and  silks  were  likely  to  rise  on  it,  as  Master 

47 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Lutestring,  the  mercer  of  Chesterfield,  was  like  to  feel 
in  his  purse  bottom.  But  for  her  part,  let  matters  wag 
how  they  would,  an  if  Master  Julian  Peveril  was  to 
come  to  his  own,  she  could  give  as  near  a  guess  as  e'er 
another  who  was  likely  to  be  lady  at  Martindale.' 

The  text  of  this  lecture,  or,  in  other  words,  the  fact  that 
Bridgenorth  was  gone  with  a  party  to  attack  Sir  Geof- 
frey Peveril  in  his  own  Castle  of  Martindale,  sounded 
so  stunningly  strange  in  the  ears  of  those  old  retainers 
of  his  family,  that  they  had  no  power  either  to  attend 
to  Mistress  Deborah's  inferences  or  to  interrupt  the 
velocity  of  speech  with  which  she  poured  them  forth. 
And  when  at  length  she  made  a  breathless  pause,  all 
that  poor  Dame  Ellesmere  could  reply  was  the  em- 
phatic question,  'Bridgenorth  brave  Peveril  of  the 
Peak!   Is  the  woman  mad?' 

'Come  —  come,  dame,'  said  Deborah,  'woman  me 
no  more  than  I  woman  you.  I  have  not  been  called 
"Mistress"  at  the  head  of  the  table  for  so  many  years, 
to  be  woman'd  here  by  you.  And  for  the  news,  it  is  as 
true  as  that  you  are  sitting  there  in  a  white  hood,  who 
will  wear  a  black  one  ere  long.' 

'Lance  Outram,'  said  the  old  woman,  'make  out,  if 
thou  be'st  a  man,  and  listen  about  if  aught  stirs  up  at 
the  castle.' 

'If  there  should,'  said  Outram,  'I  am  even  too  long 
here';  and  he  caught  up  his  cross-bow  and  one  or  two 
arrows  and  rushed  out  of  the  cottage. 

'Well-a-day!'  said  Mistress  Deborah,  'see  if  my  news 
have  not  frightened  away  Lance  Outram  too,  whom 
they  used  to  say  nothing  could  start.  But  do  not  take 
on  so,  dame ;  for  I  daresay,  if  the  castle  and  the  lands  pass 

48 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  my  new  master,  Major  Bridgenorth,  as  it  is  like  they 
will  —  for  I  have  heard  that  he  has  powerful  debts  over 
the  estate  —  you  shall  have  my  good  word  with  him, 
and  I  promise  you  he  is  no  bad  man ;  something  precise 
about  preaching  and  praying,  and  about  the  dress  which 
one  should  wear,  which,  I  must  own,  beseems  not  a 
gentleman,  as,  to  be  sure,  every  woman  knows  best 
what  becomes  her.  But  for  you,  dame,  that  wear  a 
Prayer  Book  at  your  girdle  with  your  housewife-case, 
and  never  change  the  fashion  of  your  white  hood,  I  dare- 
say he  will  not  grudge  you  the  Httle  matter  you  need, 
and  are  not  able  to  win.' 

'Out,  sordid  jade!'  exclaimed  Dame  Ellesmere,  her 
very  flesh  quivering  betwixt  apprehension  and  anger, 
*  and  hold  your  peace  this  instant,  or  I  will  find  those  that 
shall  flay  the  very  hide  from  thee  with  dog- whips.  Hast 
thou  eat  thy  noble  master's  bread,  not  only  to  betray 
his  trust  and  fly  from  his  service,  but  wouldst  thou  come 
here,  like  an  ill-omened  bird  as  thou  art,  to  triumph  over 
his  downfall? ' 

'Nay,  dame,'  said  Deborah,  over  whom  the  violence 
of  the  old  woman  had  obtained  a  certain  predominance; 
*it  is  not  I  that  say  it,  only  the  warrant  of  the  ParUa- 
ment  folks.' 

*I  thought  we  had  done  with  their  warrants  ever  since 
the  blessed  twenty-ninth  of  May,'  said  the  old  house- 
keeper of  Martindale  Castle;  'but  this  I  tell  thee,  sweet- 
heart, that  I  have  seen  such  warrants  crammed,  at  the 
sword's  point,  down  the  throats  of  them  that  brought 
them ;  and  so  shall  this  be,  if  there  is  one  true  man  left 
to  drink  of  the  Dove.' 

As  she  spoke.  Lance  Outram  reentered  the  cottage. 

28  49 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Naunt,'  he  said  in  dismay,  'I  doubt  it  is  true  what  she 
says.  The  beacon  tower  is  as  black  as  my  belt.  No  pole- 
star  of  Peveril.   What  does  that  betoken? ' 

'Death,  ruin,  and  captivity,'  exclaimed  old  Ellesmere. 
'Make  for  the  castle,  thou  knave.  Thrust  in  thy  great 
body.  Strike  for  the  house  that  bred  thee  and  fed  thee; 
and  if  thou  art  buried  under  the  ruins,  thou  diest  a  man's 
death.' 

*Nay,  naunt,  I  shall  not  be  slack,'  answered  Outram. 
'But  here  come  folks  that  I  warrant  can  tell  us  more 
on  't.' 

One  or  two  of  the  female  servants,  who  had  fled  from 
the  castle  during  the  alarm,  now  rushed  in  with  various 
reports  of  the  case ;  but  all  agreeing  that  a  body  of  armed 
men  were  in  possession  of  the  castle,  and  that  Major 
Bridgenorth  had  taken  young  Master  Julian  prisoner, 
and  conveyed  him  down  to  Moultrassie  Hall,  with  his 
feet  tied  under  the  belly  of  the  nag  —  a  shameful  sight 
to  be  seen,  and  he  so  well  born  and  so  handsome. 

Lance  scratched  his  head ;  and  though  feeling  the  duty 
incumbent  upon  him  as  a  faithful  servant,  which  was  in- 
deed specially  dinned  into  him  by  the  cries  and  exclama- 
tions of  his  aunt,  he  seemed  not  a  little  dubious  how  to 
conduct  himself.  *I  would  to  God,  naunt,'  he  said  at 
last,  'that  old  Whitaker  were  alive  now,  with  his  long 
stories  about  Marston  Moor  and  Edge  Hill,  that  made 
us  all  yawn  our  jaws  off  their  hinges,  in  spite  of  broiled 
rashers  and  double-beer!  When  a  man  is  missed,  he  is 
moaned,  as  they  say;  and  I  would  rather  than  a  broad 
piece  he  had  been  here  to  have  sorted  this  matter,  for  it  is 
clean  out  of  my  way  as  a  woodsman,  that  have  no  skill 
of  war.   But  dang  it,  if  old  Sir  Geoffrey  go  to  the  wall 

SO 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

without  a  knock  for  it!  Here  you,  Nell  (speaking  to  one 
of  the  fugitive  maidens  from  the  castle)  —  but  no,  you 
have  not  the  heart  of  a  cat,  and  are  afraid  of  your  own 
shadow  by  moonlight.  But,  Cis,  you  are  a  stout-hearted 
wench,  and  know  a  buck  from  a  bullfinch.  Hark  thee, 
Cis,  as  you  would  wish  to  be  married,  get  up  to  the 
castle  again,  and  get  thee  in  —  thou  best  knowest  where, 
for  thou  hast  oft  gotten  out  of  postern  to  a  dance,  or 
junketing,  to  my  knowledge.  Get  thee  back  to  the 
castle,  as  ye  hope  to  be  married ;  see  my  lady  —  they 
cannot  hinder  thee  of  that  —  my  lady  has  a  head  worth 
twenty  of  ours;  if  I  am  to  gather  force,  light  up  the  bea- 
con for  a  signal,  and  spare  not  a  tar  barrel  on't.  Thou 
mayst  do  it  safe  enough.  I  warrant  the  Roundheads 
busy  with  drink  and  plunder.  And,  hark  thee,  say  to  my 
lady  I  am  gone  down  to  the  miners'  houses  at  Bonad- 
venture.  The  rogues  were  mutinying  for  their  wages 
but  yesterday ;  they  will  be  all  ready  for  good  or  bad. 
Let  her  send  orders  down  to  me ;  or  do  you  come  your- 
self, your  legs  are  long  enough.' 

'Whether  they  are  or  not.  Master  Lance  —  and  you 
know  nothing  of  the  matter  —  they  shall  do  your 
errand  to-night,  for  love  of  the  old  knight  and  his 
lady.' 

So  Cisly  Sellok,  a  kind  of  Derbyshire  Camilla,  who 
had  won  the  smock  at  the  foot-race  at  Ashbourne, 
sprung  forward  towards  the  castle,  with  a  speed  which 
few  could  have  equalled. 

'There  goes  a  mettled  wench,'  said  Lance;  'and  now, 
naunt,  give  me  the  old  broadsword  —  it  is  above  the 
bed-head  —  and  my  wood-knife;  and  I  shall  do  well 
enough.' 

SI 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'And  what  is  to  become  of  me?'  bleated  the  unfortu- 
nate Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch. 

'  You  must  remain  here  with  my  aunt,  Mistress  Deb ; 
and,  for  old  acquaintance'  sake,  she  will  take  care  no 
harm  befalls  you;  but  take  heed  how  you  attempt  to 
break  bounds.' 

So  saying,  and  pondering  in  his  own  mind  the  task 
which  he  had  undertaken,  the  hardy  forester  strode  down 
the  moonlight  glade,  scarcely  hearing  the  blessings  and 
cautions  which  Dame  Ellesmere  kept  showering  after 
him.  His  thoughts  were  not  altogether  warlike.  'What 
a  tight  ankle  the  jade  hath!  she  trips  it  like  a  doe  in 
summer  over  the  dew.  Well,  but  here  are  the  huts.  Let 
us  to  this  gear.  Are  ye  all  asleep,  ye  dammers,  sinkers, 
and  drift-drivers?  Turn  out,  ye  subterranean  badgers. 
Here  is  your  master,  Sir  Geoffrey,  dead,  for  aught  you 
know  or  care.  Do  not  you  see  the  beacon  is  unlit,  and 
you  sit  there  like  so  many  asses? ' 

'Why,'  answered  one  of  the  miners,  who  now  began  to 
come  out  of  their  huts, 

'An  he  be  dead, 

He  will  eat  no  more  bread.' 

*And  you  are  like  to  eat  none  neither,'  said  Lance; 
*for  the  works  will  be  presently  stopped,  and  all  of  you 
turned  off.' 

'Well,  and  what  of  it.  Master  Lance?  As  good  play 
for  nought  as  work  for  nought.  Here  is  four  weeks  we 
have  scarce  seen  the  colour  of  Sir  Geoffrey's  coin;  and 
you  ask  us  to  care  whether  he  be  dead  or  in  life?  For 
you,  that  goes  about,  trotting  upon  your  horse,  and  do- 
ing for  work  what  all  men  do  for  pleasure,  it  may  be  well 
enough;  but  it  is  another  matter  to  be  leaving  God's 

52 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

light,  and  burrowing  all  day  and  night  in  darkness,  like 
a  toad  in  a  hole  —  that 's  not  to  be  done  for  nought, 
I  trow;  and  if  Sir  Geoffrey  is  dead,  his  soul  will  suffer 
for't;  and  if  he's  alive,  we'll  have  him  in  the  barmoot 
court.' 

*Hark  ye,  gaffer,'  said  Lance,  'and  take  notice,  my 
mates,  all  of  you,'  for  a  considerable  number  of  these 
rude  and  subterranean  people  had  now  assembled  to 
hear  the  discussion  —  'Has  Sir  Goeffrey,  think  you,  ever 
put  a  penny  in  his  pouch  out  of  this  same  Bonadventure 
mine? ' 

*  I  cannot  say  as  I  think  he  has,'  answered  old  Ditchley, 
the  party  who  maintained  the  controversy. 

'Answer  on  your  conscience,  though  it  be  but  a  leaden 
one.  Do  not  you  know  that  he  hath  lost  a  good  penny? ' 

'Why,  I  believe  he  may,'  said  Gaffer  Ditchley.  '  What 
then?  Lose  to-day,  win  to-morrow;  the  miner  must  eat 
in  the  meantime.' 

'True;  but  what  will  you  eat  when  Master  Bridge- 
north  gets  the  land,  that  will  not  hear  of  a  mine  being 
wrought  on  his  own  ground?  Will  he  work  on  at  dead 
loss,  think  ye? '  demanded  trusty  Lance. 

'Bridgenorth!  —  he  of  Moultrassie  Hall,  that  stopped 
the  great  FeHcity  work,  on  which  his  father  laid  out, 
some  say,  ten  thousand  pounds,  and  never  got  in  a 
penny?  Why,  what  has  he  to  do  with  Sir  Geoffrey's 
property  down  here  at  Bonadventure?  It  was  never 
his,  I  trow.' 

'Nay,  what  do  I  know?'  answered  Lance,  who  saw 
the  impression  he  had  made.  'Law  and  debt  will  give 
him  half  Derbyshire,  I  think,  imless  you  stand  by  old 
Sir  Geoffrey.' 

53 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'But  if  Sir  Geoffrey  be  dead/  said  Ditchley,  cautiously, 
'what  good  will  our  standing  by  do  to  him?' 

'I  did  not  say  he  was  dead,  but  only  as  bad  as  dead: 
in  the  hands  of  the  Roundheads  —  a  prisoner  up  yonder 
at  his  own  castle,'  said  Lance; '  and  will  have  his  head  cut 
off,  like  the  good  Earl  of  Derby's,  at  Bolton-le-Moors.' 

'Nay,  then,  comrades,'  said  Gaffer  Ditchley,  'an  it  be 
as  Master  Lance  says,  I  think  we  should  bear  a  hand  for 
stout  old  Sir  Geoffrey,  against  a  low-born,  mean-spirited 
fellow  Hke  Bridgenorth,  who  shut  up  a  shaft  had  cost 
thousands,  without  getting  a  penny  profit  on 't.  So  hurra 
for  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  down  with  the  Rump!  But  hold 
ye  a  blink  —  hold  (and  the  waving  of  his  hand  stopped 
the  commencing  cheer).  Hark  ye,  Master  Lance,  it 
must  be  all  over,  for  the  beacon  is  as  black  as  night;  and 
you  know  yourself  that  marks  the  lord's  death.' 

'It  will  kindle  again  in  an  instant,'  said  Lance;  in- 
ternally adding,  'I  pray  to  God  it  may!  It  will  kindle 
in  an  instant  —  lack  of  fuel,  and  the  confusion  of  the 
family ! ' 

'Ay,  like  enow  —  like  enow,'  said  Ditchley;  'but  I 
winna  budge  till  I  see  it  blazing.' 

'Why  then,  there  a  goes!'  said  Lance.  'Thank  thee, 
Cis  —  thank  thee,  my  good  wench.  Believe  your  own 
eyes,  my  lads,  if  you  will  not  believe  me;  and  now  hurra 
for  Peveril  of  the  Peak  —  the  King  and  his  friends  — 
and  down  with  Rumps  and  Roundheads ! ' 

The  sudden  rekindling  of  the  beacon  had  all  the  effect 
which  Lance  could  have  desired  upon  the  minds  of  his 
rude  and  ignorant  hearers,  who,  in  their  superstitious 
humour,  had  strongly  associated  the  polar  star  of  Pev- 
eril with  the  fortunes  of  the  family.    Once  moved,  ac- 

54 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

cording  to  the  national  character  of  their  countrymen, 
they  soon  became  enthusiastic;  and  Lance  found  him- 
self at  the  head  of  thirty  stout  fellows  and  upwards, 
armed  with  their  pick-axes,  and  ready  to  execute  what- 
ever task  he  should  impose  on  them. 

Trusting  to  enter  the  castle  by  the  postern,  which  had 
served  to  accommodate  himself  and  other  domestics 
upon  an  emergency,  his  only  anxiety  was  to  keep  his 
march  silent;  and  he  earnestly  recommended  to  his  fol- 
lowers to  reserve  their  shouts  for  the  moment  of  the  at- 
tack. They  had  not  advanced  far  on  their  road  to  the 
castle  when  Cisly  Sellok  met  them,  so  breathless  with 
haste  that  the  poor  girl  was  obliged  to  throw  herself 
into  Master  Lance's  arms. 

'Stand  up,  my  mettled  wench,'  said  he,  giving  her  a 
sly  kiss  at  the  same  time,  'and  let  us  know  what  is  going 
on  up  at  the  castle.' 

'  My  lady  bids  you,  as  you  would  serve  God  and  your 
master,  not  to  come  up  to  the  castle,  which  can  but 
make  bloodshed;  for  she  says  Sir  Geoffrey  is  lawfully 
in  hand,  and  that  he  must  bide  the  issue;  and  that  he 
is  innocent  of  what  he  is  charged  with,  and  is  going  up 
to  speak  for  himself  before  King  and  Council,  and  she 
goes  up  with  him.  And  besides,  they  have  found  out  the 
postern,  the  Roundhead  rogues;  for  two  of  them  saw  me 
when  I  went  out  of  door,  and  chased  me;  but  I  showed 
them  a  fair  pair  of  heels.' 

*As  ever  dashed  dew  from  the  cowslip,'  said  Lance. 
*But  what  the  foul  fiend  is  to  be  done?  for  if  they  have 
secured  the  postern,  I  know  not'  how  the  dickens  we 
can  get  in.' 

'All  is  fastened  with  bolt  and  staple,  and  guarded  with 

55 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

gun  and  pistol,  at  the  castle,'  quoth  Cisly;  'and  so  sharp 
are  they,  that  they  nigh  caught  me  coming  with  my 
lady's  message,  as  I  told  you.  But  my  lady  says,  if  you 
could  deliver  her  son.  Master  JuUan,  from  Bridgenorth, 
that  she  would  hold  it  good  service.' 

'What!'  said  Lance,  'is  yoimg  master  at  the  castle? 
I  taught  him  to  shoot  his  first  shaft.  But  how  to  get  in ! ' 

'He  was  at  the  castle  in  the  midst  of  the  ruffle,  but 
old  Bridgenorth  has  carried  him  down  prisoner  to  the 
hall,'  answered  Cisly.  'There  was  never  faith  nor  cour- 
tesy in  an  old  Puritan,  who  never  had  pipe  and  tabor 
in  his  house  since  it  was  built.' 

'Or  who  stopped  a  promising  mine,'  said  Ditchley, 
*to  save  a  few  thousand  pounds,  when  he  might  have 
made  himself  as  rich  as  the  Lord  of  Chatsworth,  and  fed 
a  hundred  good  fellows  all  the  whilst.' 

'Why,  then,'  said  Lance,  'since  you  are  all  of  a  mind, 
we  will  go  draw  the  cover  for  the  old  badger;  and  I 
promise  you  that  the  hall  is  not  like  one  of  your  real 
houses  of  quality,  where  the  walls  are  as  thick  as  whin- 
stone  dikes,  but  fooHsh  brickwork,  that  your  pick-axes 
will  work  through  as  if  it  were  cheese.  Huzza  once  more 
for  Peveril  of  the  Peak !  down  with  Bridgenorth  and  all 
upstart  cuckoldy  Roundheads ! ' 

Having  indulged  the  throats  of  his  followers  with  one 
buxom  huzza,  Lance  commanded  them  to  cease  their 
clamours,  and  proceeded  to  conduct  them,  by  such  paths 
as  seemed  the  least  likely  to  be  watched,  to  the  court- 
yard of  Moultrassie  Hall.  On  the  road  they  were  joined 
by  several  stout  yeomen  farmers,  either  followers  of  the 
Peveril  family  or  friends  to  the  High  Church  and  Cava- 
lier party;  most  of  whom,  alarmed  by  the  news  which 

56 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

began  to  fly  fast  through  the  neighbourhood,  were 
armed  with  sword  and  pistol. 

Lance  Outram  halted  his  party,  at  the  distance,  as  he 
himself  described  it,  of  a  flight-shot  from  the  house,  and 
advanced  alone,  and  in  silence,  to  reconnoitre;  and  hav- 
ing previously  commanded  Ditchley  and  his  subterra- 
nean allies  to  come  to  his  assistance  whenever  he  should 
whistle,  he  crept  cautiously  forward,  and  soon  found 
that  those  whom  he  came  to  surprise,  true  to  the  dis- 
cipline which  had  gained  their  party  such  decided  su- 
periority during  the  Civil  War,  had  posted  a  sentinel, 
who  paced  through  the  courtyard  piously  chanting  a 
psalm-tune,  while  his  arms,  crossed  on  his  bosom,  sup- 
ported a  gun  of  formidable  length. 

'Now,  a  true  soldier,'  said  Lance  Outram  to  himself, 
'would  put  a  stop  to  thy  snivelling  ditty,  by  making  a 
broad  arrow  quiver  in  your  heart,  and  no  great  alarm 
given.  But,  dang  it,  I  have  not  the  right  spirit  for  a 
soldier :  I  cannot  fight  a  man  till  my  blood 's  up ;  and  for 
shooting  him  from  behind  a  wall,  it  is  cruelly  like  to 
stalking  a  deer.  I  '11  e'en  face  him  and  try  what  to  make 
of  him.' 

With  this  doughty  resolution,  and  taking  no  further 
care  to  conceal  himself,  he  entered  the  courtyard  boldly, 
and  was  making  forward  to  the  front  door  of  the  hall,  as 
a  matter  of  course.  But  the  old  Cromwellian  who  was 
on  guard  had  not  so  learned  his  duty.  'Who goes  there? 
Stand,  friend  —  stand;  or,  verily,  I  will  shoot  thee  to 
death ! '  were  challenges  which  followed  each  other  quick, 
the  last  being  enforced  by  the  levelling  and  presenting 
the  said  long-barrelled  gun  with  which  he  was  armed. 

'Why,  what  a  murrain!'  answered  Lance.  'Is  it  your 

57 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

fashion  to  go  a-shooting  at  this  time  o'  night?  Why,  this 
is  but  a  time  for  bat-fowling.' 

'Nay,  but  hark  thee,  friend,'  said  the  experienced 
sentinel,  *I  am  none  of  those  who  do  this  work  negli- 
gently. Thou  canst  not  snare  me  with  thy  crafty  speech, 
though  thou  wouldst  make  it  to  sound  simple  in  mine 
ear.  Of  a  verity  I  will  shoot,  unless  thou  tell  thy  name 
and  business.' 

'  Name ! '  said  Lance ; '  why,  what  a  dickens  should  it  be 
but  Robin  Round  —  honest  Robin  of  Redham ;  and  for 
business,  an  you  must  needs  know,  I  come  on  a  message 
from  some  Parliament  man  up  yonder  at  the  castle,  with 
letters  for  worshipful  Master  Bridgenorth  of  Moultrassie 
Hall,  and  this  be  the  place,  as  I  think;  though  why  ye 
be  marching  up  and  down  at  his  door,  like  the  sign  of 
the  Red  Man,  with  your  old  firelock  there,  I  cannot  so 
well  guess.' 

'Give  me  the  letters,  my  friend,'  said  the  sentinel,  to 
whom  this  explanation  seemed  very  natural  and  prob- 
able, 'and  I  will  cause  them  forthwith  to  be  delivered 
into  his  worship's  own  hand.' 

Rummaging  in  his  pockets,  as  if  to  pull  out  the  letters 
which  never  existed.  Master  Lance  approached  within 
the  sentinel's  piece,  and,  before  he  was  aware,  suddenly 
seized  him  by  the  collar,  whistled  sharp  and  shrill,  and 
exerting  his  skill  as  a  wrestler,  for  which  he  had  been 
distinguished  in  his  youth,  he  stretched  his  antagonist  on 
his  back  —  the  musket  for  which  they  struggled  going 
off  in  the  fall. 

The  miners  rushed  into  the  courtyard  at  Lance's  sig- 
nal ;  and,  hopeless  any  longer  of  prosecuting  his  design 
in  silence,  Lance  commanded  two  of  them  to  secure  the 

58 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

prisoner,  and  the  rest  to  cheer  loudly,  and  attack  the 
door  of  the  house.  Instantly  the  courtyard  of  the  man- 
sion rang  with  the  cry  of '  Peveril  of  the  Peak  for  ever ! ' 
with  all  the  abuse  which  the  RoyaHsts  had  invented  to 
cast  upon  the  Roundheads  during  so  many  years  of  con- 
tention; and  at  the  same  time,  while  some  assailed  the 
door  with  their  mining  implements,  others  directed  their 
attack  against  the  angle,  where  a  kind  of  porch  joined  to 
the  main  front  of  the  building ;  and  there,  in  some  degree 
protected  by  the  projection  of  the  wall  and  of  a  balcony 
which  overhung  the  porch,  wrought  in  more  security, 
as  well  as  with  more  effect,  than  the  others;  for  the  doors 
being  of  oak,  thickly  studded  with  nails,  ofifered  a  more 
effectual  resistance  to  violence  than  the  brickwork. 

The  noise  of  this  hubbub  on  the  outside  soon  excited 
wild  alarm  and  tumult  within.  Lights  flew  from  window 
to  window,  and  voices  were  heard  demanding  the  cause 
of  the  attack ;  to  which  the  party  cries  of  those  who  were 
in  the  courtyard  afforded  a  sufficient,  or  at  least  the  only, 
answer,  which  was  vouchsafed.  At  length  the  window  of 
a  projecting  staircase  opened,  and  the  voice  of  Bridge- 
north  himself  demanded  authoritatively  what  the  tu- 
mult meant,  and  commanded  the  rioters  to  desist,  upon 
their  own  proper  and  immediate  peril. 

*We  want  our  young  master,  you  canting  old  thief,' 
was  the  reply;  'and  if  we  have  him  not  instantly,  the 
topmost  stone  of  your  house  shall  lie  as  low  as  the 
foundation ! ' 

*We  will  try  that  presently,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'for  if 
there  is  another  blow  struck  against  the  walls  of  my 
peaceful  house,  I  will  fire  my  carabine  among  you,  and 
your  blood  be  upon  your  own  head.   I  have  a  score  of 

59 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

friends,  well  armed  with  musket  and  pistol,  to  defend 
my  house ;  and  we  have  both  the  means  and  heart,  with 
Heaven's  assistance,  to  repay  any  violence  you  can 
offer.' 

'Master  Bridgenorth,'  replied  Lance,  who,  though  no 
soldier,  was  sportsman  enough  to  comprehend  the  ad- 
vantage which  those  imder  cover,  and  using  firearms, 
must  necessarily  have  over  his  party,  exposed  to  their 
aim,  in  a  great  measure,  and  without  means  of  answering 
their  fire  —  *  Master  Bridgenorth,  let  us  crave  parley 
with  you,  and  fair  conditions.  We  desire  to  do  you  no 
evil,  but  will  have  back  our  young  master;  it  is  enough 
that  you  have  got  our  old  one  and  his  lady.  It  is  foul 
chasing,  to  kill  hart,  hind,  and  fawn;  and  we  will  give 
you  some  light  on  the  subject  in  an  instant.' 

This  speech  was  followed  by  a  great  crash  amongst 
the  lower  windows  of  the  house,  according  to  a  new 
species  of  attack  which  had  been  suggested  by  some  of 
the  assailants. 

*I  would  take  the  honest  fellow's  word,  and  let  young 
Peveril  go,'  said  one  of  the  garrison,  who,  carelessly 
yawning,  approached  on  the  inside  the  post  at  which 
Bridgenorth  had  stationed  himself. 

'Are  you  mad?'  said  Bridgenorth;  'or  do  you  think 
me  poor  enough  in  spirit  to  give  up  the  advantages  I  now 
possess  over  the  family  of  Peveril  for  the  awe  of  a  parcel 
of  boors,  whom  the  first  discharge  will  scatter  like  chaff 
before  the  whirlwind? ' 

'Nay,'  answered  the  speaker,  who  was  the  same  indi- 
vidual that  had  struck  Julian  by  his  resemblance  to  the 
man  who  called  himself  Ganlesse, '  I  love  a  dire  revenge, 
but  we  shall  buy  it  somewhat  too  dear  if  these  rascals  set 

60 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  house  on  fire,  as  they  are  like  to  do,  while  you  are 
parleying  from  the  window.  They  have  thrown  torches 
or  firebrands  into  the  hall;  and  it  is  all  our  friends  can 
do  to  keep  the  flame  from  catching  the  wainscoting, 
which  is  old  and  dry.' 

'Now,  may  Heaven  judge  thee  for  thy  lightness  of 
spirit,'  answered  Bridgenorth;  'one  would  think  mis- 
chief was  so  properly  thy  element  that  to  thee  it  was 
indifferent  whether  friend  or  foe  was  the  sufferer.' 

So  saying,  he  ran  hastily  downstairs  towards  the  hall, 
into  which,  through  broken  casements,  and  betwixt  the 
iron  bars,  which  prevented  human  entrance,  the  assail- 
ants had  thrust  Hghted  straw,  sufficient  to  excite  much 
smoke  and  some  fire,  and  to  throw  the  defenders  of  the 
house  into  great  confusion;  insomuch,  that  of  several 
shots  fired  hastily  from  the  windows  little  or  no  damage 
followed  to  the  besiegers,  who,  getting  warm  in  the 
onset,  answered  the  hostile  charges  with  loud  shouts  of 
'Peveril  for  ever!'  and  had  already  made  a  practicable 
breach  through  the  brick  wall  of  the  tenement,  through 
which  Lance,  Ditchley,  and  several  of  the  most  adven- 
turous among  their  followers,  made  their  way  into  the 
hall. 

The  complete  capture  of  the  house  remained,  however, 
as  far  off  as  ever.  The  defenders  mixed  with  much  cool- 
ness and  skill  that  solemn  and  deep  spirit  of  enthusiasm 
which  sets  life  at  less  than  nothing  in  comparison  to  real 
or  supposed  duty.  From  the  half -opened  doors  which  led 
into  the  hall,  they  maintained  a  fire  which  began  to  grow 
fatal.  One  miner  was  shot  dead;  three  or  four  were 
wounded;  and  Lance  scarce  knew  whether  he  should 
draw  his  forces  from  the  house  and  leave  it  a  prey  to  the 

61 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

flames,  or,  making  a  desperate  attack  on  the  posts  occu- 
pied by  the  defenders,  try  to  obtain  immolested  posses- 
sion of  the  place.  At  this  moment  his  course  of  conduct 
was  determined  by  an  unexpected  occurrence,  of  which 
it  is  necessary  to  trace  the  cause. 

Julian  Peveril  had  been,  like  other  inhabitants  of  Moul- 
trassie  Hall  on  that  momentous  night,  awakened  by  the 
report  of  the  sentinel's  musket,  followed  by  the  shouts  of 
his  father's  vassals  and  followers;  of  which  he  collected 
enough  to  guess  that  Bridgenorth's  house  was  attacked 
with  a  view  to  his  Hberation.  Very  doubtful  of  the  issue 
of  such  an  attempt,  dizzy  with  the  slumber  from  which 
he  had  been  so  suddenly  awakened,  and  confounded 
with  the  rapid  succession  of  events  to  which  he  had  been 
lately  a  witness,  he  speedily  put  on  a  part  of  his  clothes 
and  hastened  to  the  window  of  his  apartment.  From  this 
he  could  see  nothing  to  relieve  his  anxiety,  for  it  looked 
towards  a  quarter  different  from  that  on  which  the  at- 
tack was  made.  He  attempted  his  door;  it  was  locked 
on  the  outside ;  and  his  perplexity  and  anxiety  became 
extreme,  when  suddenly  the  lock  was  turned,  and  in 
an  imdress  hastily  assumed  in  the  moment  of  alarm, 
her  hair  streaming  on  her  shoulders,  her  eyes  gleaming 
betwixt  fear  and  resolution,  Ahce  Bridgenorth  rushed 
into  his  apartment,  and  seized  his  hand  with  the  fer- 
vent exclamation,  'JuHan,  save  my  father!' 

The  light  which  she  bore  in  her  hand  served  to  show 
those  features  which  could  rarely  have  been  viewed  by 
any  one  without  emotion,  but  which  bore  an  expression 
irresistible  to  a  lover. 

'Alice,'  he  said,  'what  means  this?  What  is  the  dan- 
ger? Where  is  your  father? ' 

62 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Do  not  stay  to  question,'  she  answered;  'but  if  you 
would  save  him,  follow  me!' 

At  the  same  time  she  led  the  way,  with  great  speed, 
halfway  down  the  turret  staircase  which  led  to  his  room, 
thence  turning  through  a  side  door,  along  a  long  gallery, 
to  a  larger  and  wider  stair,  at  the  bottom  of  which  stood 
her  father,  surrounded  by  four  or  five  of  his  friends, 
scarce  discernible  through  the  smoke  of  the  fire  which 
began  to  take  hold  in  the  hall,  as  well  as  that  which  arose 
from  the  repeated  discharge  of  their  own  firearms. 

Julian  saw  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost,  if  he 
meant  to  be  a  successful  mediator.  He  rushed  through 
Bridgenorth's  party  ere  they  were  aware  of  his  approach, 
and  throwing  himself  amongst  the  assailants,  who  occu- 
pied the  hall  in  considerable  numbers,  he  assured  them 
of  his  personal  safety,  and  conjured  them  to  depart. 

'Not  without  a  few  more  slices  at  the  Rump,  master,' 
answered  Lance.  '  I  am  principally  glad  to  see  you  safe 
and  well;  but  here  is  Joe  Rimegap  shot  as  dead  as 
a  buck  in  season,  and  more  of  us  are  hurt;  and  we'll 
have  revenge,  and  roast  the  Puritans  like  apples  for 
lambswool ' ! 

'  Then  you  shall  roast  me  along  with  them,'  said  Julian ; 
'for  I  vow  to  God,  I  will  not  leave  the  hall,  being  bound 
by  parole  of  honour  to  abide  with  Major  Bridgenorth  till 
lawfully  dismissed.' 

'Now  out  on  you,  an  you  were  ten  times  a  Peveril!' 
said  Ditchley;  'to  give  so  many  honest  fellows  loss  and 
labour  on  your  behalf,  and  to  show  them  no  kinder  coun- 
tenance. I  say,  beat  up  the  fire  and  burn  all  together!' 

'Nay  —  nay;  but  peace,  my  masters,  and  hearken  to 
reason,'  said  JuHan;  'we  are  all  here  in  evil  condition, 

63 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  you  will  only  make  it  worse  by  contention.  Do  you 
help  to  put  out  this  same  fire,  which  will  else  cost  us  all 
dear.  Keep  yourselves  under  arms.  Let  Master  Bridge- 
north  and  me  settle  some  grounds  of  accommodation, 
and  I  trust  all  will  be  favourably  made  up  on  both  sides; 
and  if  not,  you  shall  have  my  consent  and  countenance 
to  fight  it  out;  and  come  on  it  what  will,  I  will  never  for- 
get this  night's  good  service.' 

He  then  drew  Ditchley  and  Lance  Outram  aside,  while 
the  rest  stood  suspended  at  his  appearance  and  words, 
and  expressing  the  utmost  thanks  and  gratitude  for 
what  they  had  already  done,  urged  them,  as  the  greatest 
favour  which  they  could  do  towards  him  and  his  father's 
house,  to  permit  him  to  negotiate  the  terms  of  his  eman- 
cipation from  thraldom;  at  the  same  time  forcing  on 
Ditchley  five  or  six  gold  pieces,  that  the  brave  lads  of 
Bonadventure  might  drink  his  health;  whilst  to  Lance  he 
expressed  the  warmest  sense  of  his  active  kindness,  but 
protested  he  could  only  consider  it  as  good  service  to  his 
house  if  he  was  allowed  to  manage  the  matter  after  his 
own  fashion. 

'Why,'  answered  Lance,  *I  am  well  out  on  it,  Master 
Julian ;  for  it  is  matter  beyond  my  mastery.  All  that  I 
stand  to  is,  that  I  will  see  you  safe  out  of  this  same  Moul- 
trassie  Hall;  for  our  old  naunt  Ellesmere  will  else  give 
me  but  cold  comfort  when  I  come  home.  Truth  is,  I 
began  unwillingly;  but  when  I  saw  the  poor  fellow  Joe 
shot  beside  me,  why,  I  thought  we  should  have  some 
amends.  But  I  put  it  all  in  your  honour's  hands.' 

During  this  colloquy  both  parties  had  been  amicably 
employed  in  extinguishing  the  fire,  which  might  other- 
wise have  been  fatal  to  all.  It  required  a  general  effort 

64 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  get  it  under;  and  both  parties  agreed  on  the  necessary 
labour  with  as  much  unanimity  as  if  the  water  they 
brought  in  leathern  buckets  from  the  well  to  throw  upon 
the  fire  had  had  some  effect  in  slaking  their  mutual 
hostility. 

28 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


Necessity,  thou  best  of  peacemakers, 
As  well  as  surest  prompter  of  invention. 
Help  us  to  composition  I  ^ 

Anonymous. 


While  the  fire  continued,  the  two  parties  laboured  in 
active  union,  like  the  jarring  factions  of  the  Jews  during 
the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  when  compelled  to  unite  in  resist- 
ing an  assault  of  the  besiegers.  But  when  the  last  bucket 
of  water  had  hissed  on  the  few  embers  that  continued  to 
glimmer;  when  the  sense  of  mutual  hostility,  hitherto 
suspended  by  a  feeling  of  common  danger,  was  in  its 
turn  rekindled,  the  parties,  mingled  as  they  had  hitherto 
been  in  one  common  exertion,  drew  off  from  each  other, 
and  began  to  arrange  themselves  at  opposite  sides  of  the 
hall,  and  handle  their  weapons,  as  if  for  a  renewal  of  the 
fight. 

Bridgenorth  interrupted  any  further  progress  of  this 
menaced  hostility.  'JuHan  Peveril,'  he  said,  *thou  art 
free  to  walk  thine  own  path,  since  thou  wilt  not  walk 
with  me  that  road  which  is  more  safe,  as  well  as  more 
honourable.  But  if  you  do  by  my  counsel,  you  will  get 
soon  beyond  the  British  seas.' 

'Ralph  Bridgenorth,'  said  one  of  his  friends,  'this  is 
but  evil  and  feeble  conduct  on  thine  own  part.  Wilt  thou 
withhold  thy  hand  from  the  battle,  to  defend,  from  these 
sons  of  Belial,  the  captive  of  thy  bow  and  of  thy  spear? 
Surely  we  are  enow  to  deal  with  them  in  the  security  of 
our  good  old  cause;  nor  should  we  part  with  this  spawn 

66 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

of  the  old  serpent  until  we  essay  whether  the  Lord  will 
not  give  us  victory  therein.' 

A  hum  of  stern  assent  followed ;  and  had  not  Ganlesse 
now  interfered,  the  combat  would  probably  have  been 
renewed.  He  took  the  advocate  for  war  apart  into  one 
of  the  window  recesses,  and  apparently  satisfied  his 
objections;  for  as  he  returned  to  his  companions,  he  said 
to  them,  'Our  friend  hath  so  well  argued  this  matter 
that,  verily,  since  he  is  of  the  same  mind  with  the  worthy 
Major  Bridgenorth,  I  think  the  youth  may  be  set  at 
liberty.' 

As  no  further  objection  was  offered,  it  only  remained 
with  Julian  to  thank  and  reward  those  who  had  been 
active  in  his  assistance.  Having  first  obtained  from 
Bridgenorth  a  promise  of  indemnity  to  them  for  the  riot 
they  had  committed,  a  few  kind  words  conveyed  his 
sense  of  their  services;  and  some  broad  pieces,  thrust 
into  the  hand  of  Lance  Outram,  furnished  the  means  for 
affording  them  a  holy  day.  They  would  have  remained 
to  protect  him;  but,  fearful  of  further  disorder,  and 
relying  entirely  on  the  good  faith  of  Major  Bridgenorth, 
he  dismissed  them  all  excepting  Lance,  whom  he  de- 
tained to  attend  upon  him  for  a  few  minutes,  till  he 
should  depart  from  Moultrassie.  But,  ere  leaving  the 
hall,  he  could  not  repress  his  desire  to  speak  with  Bridge- 
north  in  secret;  and  advancing  towards  him,  he  expressed 
such  a  desire. 

Tacitly  granting  what  was  asked  of  him,  Bridgenorth 
led  the  way  to  a  small  summer  saloon  adjoining  to  the 
hall,  where,  with  his  usual  gravity  and  indifference  of 
manner,  he  seemed  to  await  in  silence  what  Peveril  had 
to  communicate. 

67 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Julian  found  it  difficult,  where  so  little  opening  was 
afforded  him,  to  find  a  tone  in  which  to  open  the  sub- 
jects he  had  at  heart,  that  should  be  at  once  dignified 
and  conciliating.  *  Major  Bridgenorth,'  he  said  at  length, 
'you  have  been  a  son,  and  an  affectionate  one.  You  may 
conceive  my  present  anxiety.  My  father!  What  has 
been  designed  for  him?' 

'What  the  law  will,'  answered  Bridgenorth.  'Had  he 
walked  by  the  counsels  which  I  procured  to  be  given  to 
him,  he  might  have  dwelt  safely  in  the  house  of  his  an- 
cestors. His  fate  is  now  beyond  my  control — far  beyond 
yours.  It  must  be  with  him  as  his  country  shaU  decide.' 
'And  my  mother?'  said  Peveril. 
'Will  consult,  as  she  has  ever  done,  her  own  duty;  and 
create  her  own  happiness  by  doing  so,'  replied  Bridge- 
north,  'Believe,  my  designs  towards  your  family  are 
better  than  they  may  seem  through  the  mist  which  ad- 
versity has  spread  around  your  house.  I  may  triumph 
as  a  man;  but  as  a  man  I  must  also  remember,  in  my 
hour,  that  mine  enemies  have  had  theirs.  Have  you 
aught  else  to  say? '  he  added,  after  a  momentary  pause. 
*You  have  rejected  once,  yea  and  again,  the  hand  I 
stretched  out  to  you.  Methinks  little  more  remains  be- 
tween us.' 

These  words,  which  seemed  to  cut  short  further  dis- 
cussion, were  calmly  spoken;  so  that,  though  they  ap- 
peared to  discourage  further  question,  they  could  not 
interrupt  that  which  still  trembled  on  Julian's  tongue. 
He  made  a  step  or  two  towards  the  door;  then  suddenly 
returned.  'Your  daughter!'  he  said  —  'Major  Bridge- 
north  —  I  should  ask  —  1  do  ask  forgiveness  for  men- 
tioning her  name  —  but  may  I  not  inquire  after  her? 

68 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

May  I  not  express  my  wishes  for  her  future  hap- 
piness? ' 

'Your  interest  in  her  is  but  too  flattering,'  said  Bridge- 
north;  'but  you  have  already  chosen  your  part;  and  you 
must  be,  in  future,  strangers  to  each  other.  I  may  have 
wished  it  otherwise,  but  the  hour  of  grace  is  passed, 
during  which  your  comphance  with  my  advice  might  — 
I  will  speak  it  plainly  —  have  led  to  your  union.  For 
her  happiness  —  if  such  a  word  belongs  to  a  mortal  pil- 
grimage —  I  shall  care  for  it  sufficiently.  She  leaves  this 
place  to-day,  under  the  guardianship  of  a  sure  friend.' 

'Not  of  — '  exclaimed  Peveril,  and  stopped  short;  for 
he  felt  he  had  no  right  to  pronounce  the  name  which 
came  to  his  lips. 

'Why  do  you  pause?'  said  Bridgenorth;  'a  sudden 
thought  is  often  a  wise,  almost  always  an  honest,  one. 
With  whom  did  you  suppose  I  meant  to  entrust  my 
child,  that  the  idea  called  forth  so  anxious  an  expres- 
sion? ' 

'Again  I  should  ask  your  forgiveness,'  said  Julian, 
'for  meddling  where  I  have  little  right  to  interfere. 
But  I  saw  a  face  here  that  is  known  to  me;  the  person 
calls  himself  Ganlesse.  Is  it  with  him  that  you  mean  to 
entrust  your  daughter? ' 

'Even  to  the  person  who  calls  himself  Ganlesse,'  said 
Bridgenorth,  without  expressing  either  anger  or  sur- 
prise. 

'And  do  you  know  to  whom  you  commit  a  charge  so 
precious  to  all  who  know  her  and  so  dear  to  yourself?' 
said  Julian. 

'Do  you  know,  who  ask  me  the  question?'  answered 
Bridgenorth. 

69 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  own  I  do  not,'  answered  Julian;  'but  I  have  seen 
him  in  a  character  so  different  from  what  he  now  wears, 
that  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  warn  you  how  you  entrust  the 
charge  of  your  child  to  one  who  can  alternately  play 
the  profligate  or  the  hypocrite,  as  it  suits  his  own  inter- 
est or  humour.' 

Bridgenorth  smiled  contemptuously.  'I  might  be 
angry,'  he  said,  'with  the  ofiScious  zeal  which  supposes 
that  its  green  conceptions  can  instruct  my  grey  hairs; 
but,  good  JuHan,  I  do  but  only  ask  from  you  the  liberal 
construction  that  I,  who  have  had  much  converse  with 
mankind,  know  with  whom  I  trust  what  is  dearest  to  me. 
He  of  whom  thou  speakest  hath  one  visage  to  his  friends, 
though  he  may  have  others  to  the  world,  living  amongst 
those  before  whom  honest  features  should  be  concealed 
under  a  grotesque  vizard ;  even  as  in  the  sinful  sports  of 
the  day,  called  maskings  and  mummeries,  where  the 
wise,  if  he  show  himself  at  all,  must  be  contented  to 
play  the  apish  and  fantastic  fool.' 

'I  would  only  pray  your  wisdom  to  beware,'  said 
Julian,  'of  one  who,  as  he  has  a  vizard  for  others,  may 
also  have  one  which  can  disguise  his  real  features  from 
you  yourself.' 

'  This  is  being  over  careful, young  man,'  replied  Bridge- 
north,  more  shortly  than  he  had  hitherto  spoken;  'if  you 
would  walk  by  my  counsel,  you  will  attend  to  your  own 
affairs,  which,  credit  me,  deserve  all  your  care,  and  leave 
others  to  the  management  of  theirs.' 

This  was  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood ;  and  Peveril 
was  compelled  to  take  his  leave  of  Bridgenorth  and  of 
Moultrassie  Hall  without  further  parley  or  explanation. 
The  reader  may  imagine  how  oft  he  looked  back,  and 

70 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tried  to  guess,  amongst  the  lights  which  continued  to 
twinkle  in  various  parts  of  the  building,  which  sparkle 
it  was  that  gleamed  from  the  bower  of  Alice.  When  the 
road  turned  into  another  direction,  he  sunk  into  a  deep 
reverie,  from  which  he  was  at  length  roused  by  the  voice 
of  Lance,  who  demanded  where  he  intended  to  quarter 
for  the  night.  He  was  unprepared  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion; but  the  honest  keeper  himself  prompted  a  solution 
of  the  problem,  by  requesting  that  he  would  occupy  a 
spare  bed  in  the  lodge,  to  which  Julian  wilHngly  agreed. 
The  rest  of  the  inhabitants  had  retired  to  rest  when  they 
entered;  but  Dame  Ellesmere,  apprised  by  a  messenger 
of  her  nephew's  hospitable  intent,  had  everything  in 
the  best  readiness  she  could  for  the  son  of  her  ancient 
patron.  Peveril  betook  himself  to  rest;  and,  notwith- 
standing so  many  subjects  of  anxiety,  slept  soundly  till 
the  morning  was  far  advanced. 

His  slumbers  were  first  broken  by  Lance,  who  had  been 
long  up,  and  already  active  in  his  service.  He  informed 
him  that  his  horse,  arms,  and  small  cloak-bag  had  been 
sent  from  the  castle  by  one  of  Major  Bridgenorth's 
servants,  who  brought  a  letter,  discharging  from  the  ma- 
jor's service  the  unfortunate  Deborah  Debbitch,  and 
prohibiting  her  return  to  the  hall.  The  officer  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  escorted  by  a  strong  guard,  had 
left  Martindale  Castle  that  morning  early,  travelling 
in  Sir  Geoffrey's  carriage  —  his  lady  being  also  permitted 
to  attend  on  him.  To  this  he  had  to  add,  that  the  pro- 
perty at  the  castle  was  taken  possession  of  by  Master 
Win-the-Fight,  the  attorney,  from  Chesterfield,  with 
other  officers  of  law,  in  name  of  Major  Bridgenorth,  a 
large  creditor  of  the  unfortunate  knight. 

71 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Having  told  these  Job's  tidings,  Lance  paused;  and, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  declared  he  was  resolved  to 
quit  the  country  and  go  up  to  London  along  with  his 
young  master.  JuHan  argued  the  point  with  him;  and 
insisted  he  had  better  stay  to  take  charge  of  his  aunt, 
in  case  she  should  be  disturbed  by  these  strangers. 
Lance  replied,  'She  would  have  one  with  her  who 
would  protect  her  well  enough;  for  there  was  where- 
withal to  buy  protection  amongst  them.  But  for  him- 
self, he  was  resolved  to  follow  Master  Julian  to  the 
death.' 

Julian  heartily  thanked  him  for  his  love. 

'Nay,  it  is  not  altogether  out  of  love  neither,'  said 
Lance,  'though  I  am  as  loving  as  another;  but  it  is,  as 
it  were,  partly  out  of  fear,  lest  I  be  called  over  the  coals 
for  last  night's  matter;  for  as  for  the  miners,  they  will 
never  trouble  them,  as  the  creatures  only  act  after  their 
kind.' 

'I  will  write  in  your  behalf  to  Major  Bridgenorth, 
who  is  bound  to  afford  you  protection,  if  you  have  such 
fear,'  said  Julian. 

'Nay,  for  that  matter,  it  is  not  altogether  fear,  more 
than  altogether  love,'  answered  the  enigmatical  keeper; 
*  although  it  hath  a  tasting  of  both  in  it.  And,  to  speak 
plain  truth,  thus  it  is  —  Dame  Debbitch  and  Naunt 
Ellesmere  have  resolved  to  set  up  their  horses  to- 
gether, and  have  made  up  all  their  quarrels.  And  of  all 
ghosts  in  the  world,  the  worst  is,  when  an  old  true-love 
comes  back  to  haunt  a  poor  fellow  like  me.  Mistress 
Deborah,  though  distressed  enow  for  the  loss  of  her 
place,  has  been  already  speaking  of  a  broken  sixpence, 
or  some  such  token,  as  if  a  man  could  remember  such 

72 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

things  for  so  many  years,  even  if  she  had  not  gone  over 
seas,  like  a  woodcock,  in  the  meanwhile.' 

Julian  could  scarce  forbear  laughing.  *  I  thought  you 
too  much  of  a  man,  Lance,  to  fear  a  woman  marrying 
you  whether  you  would  or  no.' 

'It  has  been  many  an  honest  man's  luck,  for  all  that,' 
said  Lance;  'and  a  woman  in  the  very  house  has  so 
many  deuced  opportunities.  And  then  there  would  be 
two  upon  one ;  for  naunt,  though  high  enough  when  any 
of  your  folks  are  concerned,  hath  some  look  to  the  main 
chance;  and  it  seems  Mistress  Deb  is  as  rich  as  a  Jew.' 

'And  you,  Lance,'  said  Julian,  'have  no  mind  to  marry 
for  cake  and  pudding?' 

'No,  truly,  master,'  answered  Lance,  'unless  I  knew 
of  what  dough  they  were  baked.  How  the  devil  do  I 
know  how  the  jade  came  by  so  much?  And  then  if  she 
speaks  of  tokens  and  love-passages,  let  her  be  the  same 
tight  lass  I  broke  the  sixpence  with,  and  I  will  be  the 
same  true  lad  to  her.  But  I  never  heard  of  true  love 
lasting  ten  years;  and  hers,  if  it  lives  at  all,  must  be 
nearer  twenty.' 

'Well,  then.  Lance,'  said  Julian,  'since  you  are  re- 
solved on  the  thing,  we  will  go  to  London  together; 
where,  if  I  cannot  retain  you  in  my  service,  and  if  my 
father  recovers  not  these  misfortunes,  I  will  endeavour 
to  promote  you  elsewhere.' 

'Nay  —  nay,'  said  Lance,  'I  trust  to  be  back  to  bonny 
Martlndale  before  it  is  long,  and  to  keep  the  greenwood, 
as  I  have  been  wont  to  do;  for,  as  to  Dame  Debbitch, 
when  they  have  not  me  for  their  common  butt,  naunt 
and  she  will  soon  bend  bows  on  each  other.  So  here 
comes  old  Dame  EUesmere  with  your  breakfast.   I  will 

73 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

but  give  some  directions  about  the  deer  to  Rough  Ralph, 
my  helper,  and  saddle  my  forest  pony,  and  your  honour's 
horse,  which  is  no  prime  one,  and  we  will  be  ready  to 
trot.' 

Julian  was  not  sorry  for  this  addition  to  his  establish- 
ment; for  Lance  had  shown  himself,  on  the  preceding 
evening,  a  shrewd  and  bold  fellow,  and  attached  to  his 
master.  He  therefore  set  himself  to  reconcile  his  aunt  to 
parting  with  her  nephew  for  some  time.  Her  unHmited 
devotion  for  'the  family'  readily  induced  the  old  lady 
to  acquiesce  in  his  proposal,  though  not  without  a  gentle 
sigh  over  the  ruins  of  a  castle  in  the  air,  which  was 
founded  on  the  well-saved  purse  of  Mistress  Deborah 
Debbitch.  *At  any  rate,'  she  thought,  'it  was  as  well 
that  Lance  should  be  out  of  the  way  of  that  bold,  long- 
legged,  beggarly  trollop,  Cis  Sellok.'  But  to  poor  Deb 
herself,  the  expatriation  of  Lance,  whom  she  had  looked 
to  as  a  sailor  to  a  port  under  his  lee,  for  which  he  can  run 
if  weather  becomes  foul,  was  a  second  severe  blow,  fol- 
lowing close  on  her  dismissal  from  the  profitable  service 
of  Major  Bridgenorth. 

Julian  visited  the  disconsolate  damsel,  in  hopes  of 
gaining  some  light  upon  Bridgenorth's  projects  regard- 
ing his  daughter,  the  character  of  this  Ganlesse,  and 
other  matters,  with  which  her  residence  in  the  family 
might  have  made  her  acquainted;  but  he  found  her  by 
far  too  much  troubled  in  mind  to  afford  him  the  least 
information.  The  name  of  Ganlesse  she  did  not  seem 
to  recollect,  that  of  Alice  rendered  her  hysterical,  that 
of  Bridgenorth  furious.  She  numbered  up  the  various 
services  she  had  rendered  in  the  family;  and  denounced 
the  plague  of  swartness  to  the  linen,  of  leanness  to  the 

74 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

poultry,  of  dearth  and  dishonour  to  the  housekeeping, 
and  of  lingering  sickness  and  early  death  to  Alice  —  all 
which  evils,  she  averred,  had  only  been  kept  off  by  her 
continued,  watchful,  and  incessant  cares.  Then  again 
turning  to  the  subject  of  the  fugitive  Lance,  she  ex- 
pressed such  a  total  contempt  of  that  mean-spirited 
fellow,  in  a  tone  between  laughing  and  crying,  as  satis- 
fied Julian  it  was  not  a  topic  likely  to  act  as  a  sedative; 
and  that,  therefore,  unless  he  made  a  longer  stay  than 
the  urgent  state  of  his  affairs  permitted,  he  was  not 
likely  to  find  Mistress  Deborah  in  such  a  state  of 
composure  as  might  enable  him  to  obtain  from  her  any 
rational  or  useful  information. 

Lance,  who  good-naturedly  took  upon  himself  the 
whole  burden  of  Dame  Debbitch's  mental  alienation, 
or  '  taking  on,'  as  such  fits  of  passio  hysterica  are  usually 
termed  in  the  country,  had  too  much  feeling  to  present 
himself  before  the  victim  of  her  own  sensibility  and 
of  his  obduracy.  He  therefore  intimated  to  Julian, 
by  his  assistant  Ralph,  that  the  horses  stood  saddled 
behind  the  lodge,  and  that  all  was  ready  for  their  de- 
parture. 

Julian  took  the  hint,  and  they  were  soon  mounted, 
and  clearing  the  road  at  a  rapid  trot  in  the  direction  of 
London;  but  not  by  the  most  usual  route.  Julian  calcu- 
lated that  the  carriage  in  which  his  father  was  trans- 
ported would  travel  slowly;  and  it  was  his  purpose,  if 
possible,  to  get  to  London  before  it  should  arrive  there, 
in  order  to  have  time  to  consult  with  the  friends  of  his 
family  what  measures  should  be  taken  in  his  father's 
behalf. 

In  this  manner,  they  advanced  a  day's  journey  to- 

75 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

wards  London;  at  the  conclusion  of  which,  Julian  found 
his  resting-place  in  a  small  inn  upon  the  road.  No  one 
came,  at  the  first  call,  to  attend  upon  the  guests  and 
their  horses,  although  the  house  was  well  lighted  up;  and 
there  was  a  prodigious  chattering  in  the  kitchen,  such  as 
can  only  be  produced  by  a  French  cook,  when  his  mys- 
tery is  in  the  very  moment  of  projection.  It  instantly 
occurred  to  Julian  —  so  rare  was  the  ministry  of  these 
Gallic  artists  at  that  time  —  that  the  clamour  he  heard 
must  necessarily  be  produced  by  the  Sieur  Chaubert,  on 
whose  plats  he  had  lately  feasted,  along  with  Smith  and 
Ganlesse. 

One  or  both  of  these  were  therefore  probably  in  the 
little  inn ;  and  if  so,  he  might  have  some  opportunity  to 
discover  their  real  purpose  and  character.  How  to  avail 
himself  of  such  a  meeting  he  knew  not;  but  chance 
favoured  him  more  than  he  could  have  expected. 

'I  can  scarce  receive  you,  gentlefolks,'  said  the  land- 
lord, who  at  length  appeared  at  the  door;  'here  be  a 
sort  of  quality  in  my  house  to-night  whom  less  than  all 
will  not  satisfy;  nor  all  neither,  for  that  matter.' 

'We  are  but  plain  fellows,  landlord,'  said  Julian;  'we 
are  bound  for  Moseley  market,  and  can  get  no  farther 
to-night.   Any  hole  will  serve  us,  no  matter  what.' 

'Why,'  said  the  honest  host,  'if  that  be  the  case,  I 
must  e'en  put  one  of  you  behind  the  bar,  though  the 
gentlemen  have  desired  to  be  private;  the  other  must 
take  heart  of  grace,  and  help  me  at  the  tap.' 

'The  tap  for  me,'  said  Lance,  without  waiting  his 
master's  decision.  'It  is  an  element  which  I  could  live 
and  die  in.' 

'  The  bar,  then,  for  me,'  said  Peveril;  and  stepping 

76 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

back,  whispered  to  Lance  to  exchange  cloaks  with  him, 
desirous,  if  possible,  to  avoid  being  recognized. 

The  exchange  was  made  in  an  instant;  and  presently 
afterwards  the  landlord  brought  a  light;  and  as  he  guided 
Julian  into  his  hostelry,  cautioned  him  to  sit  quiet  in  the 
place  where  he  should  stow  him;  and  if  he  was  discovered, 
to  say  that  he  was  one  of  the  house,  and  leave  him  to 
make  it  good.  'You  will  hear  what  the  gallants  say,'  he 
added;  'but  I  think  thou  wilt  carry  away  but  little  on  it; 
for  when  it  is  not  French  it  is  court  gibberish,  and  that 
is  as  hard  to  construe.' 

The  bar,  into  which  our  hero  was  inducted  on  these 
conditions,  seemed  formed,  with  respect  to  the  public 
room,  upon  the  principle  of  a  citadel,  intended  to  ob- 
serve and  bridle  a  rebellious  capital.  Here  sat  the  host 
on  the  Saturday  evenings,  screened  from  the  observation 
of  his  guests,  yet  with  the  power  of  observing  both  their 
wants  and  their  behaviour,  and  also  that  of  overhearing 
their  conversation  —  a  practice  which  he  was  much 
addicted  to,  being  one  of  that  numerous  class  of  phi- 
lanthropists to  whom  their  neighbours'  business  is  of  as 
much  consequence,  or  rather  more,  than  their  own. 

Here  he  planted  his  new  guest,  with  a  repeated  caution 
not  to  disturb  the  gentlemen  by  speech  or  motion;  and 
a  promise  that  he  should  be  speedily  supplied  with  a  cold 
buttock  of  beef  and  a  tankard  of  home-brewed.  And 
here  he  left  him  with  no  other  light  than  that  which 
glimmered  from  the  well-illuminated  apartment  within, 
through  a  sort  of  shuttle  which  accommodated  the  land- 
lord with  a  view  into  it. 

This  situation,  inconvenient  enough  in  itself,  was,  on 
the  present  occasion,  precisely  what  Juhan  would  have 

77 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

selected.  He  wrapped  himself  in  the  weather-beaten 
cloak  of  Lance  Outram,  which  had  been  stained,  by  age 
and  climate,  into  a  thousand  variations  of  its  original 
Lincoln  green;  and,  with  as  little  noise  as  he  could,  set 
himself  to  observe  the  two  inmates,  who  had  engrossed 
to  themselves  the  whole  of  the  apartment,  which  was 
usually  open  to  the  public.  They  sat  by  a  table,  well 
covered  with  such  costly  rarities  as  could  only  have  been 
procured  by  much  forecast,  and  prepared  by  the  exqui- 
site Mons.  Chaubert;  to  which  both  seemed  to  do  much 
justice. 

Julian  had  little  difficulty  in  ascertaining  that  one  of 
the  travellers  was,  as  he  had  anticipated,  the  master  of 
the  said  Chaubert,  or,  as  he  was  called  by  Ganlesse, 
Smith;  the  other,  who  faced  him,  he  had  never  seen  be- 
fore. This  last  was  dressed  like  a  gallant  of  the  first  or- 
der. His  periwig,  indeed,  as  he  travelled  on  horseback, 
did  not  much  exceed  in  size  the  bar-wig  of  a  modern 
lawyer;  but  then  the  essence  which  he  shook  from  it 
with  every  motion  impregnated  a  whole  apartment 
which  was  usually  only  perfumed  by  that  vulgar  herb, 
tobacco.  His  riding-coat  was  laced  in  the  newest  and 
most  courtly  style;  and  Grammont  himself  might  have 
envied  the  embroidery  of  his  waistcoat,  and  the  peculiar 
cut  of  his  breeches,  which  buttoned  above  the  knee,  per- 
mitting the  shape  of  a  very  handsome  leg  to  be  completely 
seen.  This,  by  the  proprietor  thereof,  had  been  stretched 
out  upon  a  stool,  and  he  contemplated  its  proportions, 
from  time  to  time,  with  infinite  satisfaction. 

The  conversation  between  these  worthies  was  so  in- 
teresting, that  we  propose  to  assign  to  it  another  chap- 
ter. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

This  is  some  creature  of  the  elements, 
Most  like  your  sea-gull.  He  can  wheel  and  whistle 
His  screaming  song  e'en  when  the  storm  is  loudest, 
Take  for  his  sheeted  couch  the  restless  foam 
Of  the  wild  wave-crest,  slumber  in  the  calm, 
And  dally  with  the  storm.   Yet  't  is  a  gull. 
An  arrant  gull,  with  all  this. 

The  Chieftain. 

*And  here  is  to  thee/  said  the  fashionable  gallant  whom 
we  have  described,  'honest  Tom;  and  a  cup  of  welcome 
to  thee  out  of  Looby-land.  Why,  thou  hast  been  so  long 
in  the  country,  that  thou  hast  got  a  bumpkinly  clod- 
compelling  sort  of  look  thyself.  That  greasy  doublet 
fits  thee  as  if  it  were  thine  reserved  Sunday's  apparel; 
and  the  points  seem  as  if  they  were  stay-laces  bought  for 
thy  true-love  Marjory.  I  marvel  thou  canst  still  relish 
a  ragout.  Methinks  now,  to  a  stomach  bound  in  such  a 
jacket,  eggs  and  bacon  were  a  diet  more  conforming.' 

'Rally  away,  my  good  lord,  while  wit  lasts,'  answered 
his  companion;  'yours  is  not  the  sort  of  ammunition 
which  will  bear  much  expenditure.  Or  rather,  tell  me 
news  from  court,  since  we  have  met  so  opportunely.' 

'You  would  have  asked  me  these  an  hour  ago,'  said 
the  lord,  'had  not  your  very  soul  been  under  Chaubert's 
covered  dishes.  You  remembered  king's  affairs  will  keep 
cool,  and  entremets  must  be  eaten  hot.' 

'Not  so,  my  lord;  I  only  kept  common  talk  whilst  that 
eavesdropping  rascal  of  a  landlord  was  in  the  room;  so 
that,  now  the  coast  is  clear  once  more,  I  pray  you  for 
news  from  court.' 

79 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'The  Plot  is  nonsuited,'  answered  the  courtier,  'Sir 
George  Wakeman  acquitted,^  the  witnesses  discredited 
by  the  jury;  Scroggs,who  ranted  on  one  side, is  now  rant- 
ing on  t'other.' 

'Rat  the  Plot,  Wakeman,  witnesses,  Papists,  and 
Protestants  all  together!  Do  you  think  I  care  for  such 
trash  as  that?  Till  the  Plot  comes  up  the  palace  back- 
stair  and  gets  possession  of  Old  Rowley's  own  imagina- 
tion, I  care  not  a  farthing  who  believes  or  disbelieves.  I 
hang  by  him  will  bear  me  out.' 

'Well,  then,'  said  my  lord,  'the  next  news  is  Roches- 
ter's disgrace.' 

'  Disgraced !  How,  and  for  what?  The  morning  I  came 
off  he  stood  as  fair  as  any  one.' 

'That 's  over  —  the  epitaph  ^  has  broken  his  neck; 
and  now  he  may  write  one  for  his  own  court  favour,  for 
it  is  dead  and  buried.' 

'  The  epitaph ! '  exclaimed  Tom.  '  Why,  I  was  by  when 
it  was  made;  and  it  passed  for  an  excellent  good  jest 
with  him  whom  it  was  made  upon.' 

'Ay,  so  it  did  among  ourselves,'  answered  his  com- 
panion; 'but  it  got  abroad,  and  had  a  run  like  a  mill- 
race.  It  was  in  every  coffee-house  and  in  half  the  diur- 
nals.  Grammont  translated  it  into  French  too ;  and  there 
is  no  laughing  at  so  sharp  a  jest,  when  it  is  dinned  into 
your  ears  on  all  sides.  So,  disgraced  is  the  author;  and 
but  for  his  Grace  of  Buckingham,  the  court  would  be  as 
dull  as  my  Lord  Chancellor's  wig.' 

'Or  as  the  head  it  covers.  Well,  my  lord,  the  fewer  at 
court,  there  is  the  more  room  for  those  that  can  bustle 
there.   But  there  are  two  main-strings  of  Shaftesbury's 

'  See  Note  i.  *  See  Note  2. 

80 


PEVEREL  OF  THE  PEAK 

fiddle  broken —  the  Popish  Plot  fallen  into  discredit,  and 
Rochester  disgraced.  Changeful  times;  but  here  is  to 
the  little  man  who  shall  mend  them.' 

*I  apprehend  you,'  replied  his  lordship;  'and  meet 
your  health  with  my  love.  Trust  me,  my  lord  loves  you 
and  longs  for  you.  Nay,  I  have  done  you  reason.  By 
your  leave,  the  cup  is  with  me.  Here  is  to  his  buxom 
Grace  of  Bucks.' 

*As  blythe  a  peer,'  said  Smith,  'as  ever  turned  night 
to  day.  Nay,  it  shall  be  an  overflowing  bumper,  an  you 
will ;  and  I  will  drink  it  super  naculum.  And  how  stands 
the  great  Madam? '  ^ 

'Stoutly  against  all  change,'  answered  my  lord. 
'Little  Anthony  ^  can  make  nought  of  her.' 

'Then  he  shall  bring  her  influence  to  nought.  Hark 
in  thine  ear.  Thou  knowest  — '  here  he  whispered  so  low 
that  Julian  could  not  catch  the  sound. 

'Know  him?'  answered  the  other  —  'know  Ned  of 
the  Island?  To  be  sure  I  do.' 

'He  is  the  man  that  shall  knot  the  great  fiddle-strings 
that  have  snapped.  Say  I  told  you  so;  and  thereupon  I 
give  thee  his  health.' 

'And  thereupon  I  pledge  thee,'  said  the  young  noble- 
man, 'which  on  any  other  argument  I  were  loth  to  do, 
thinking  of  Ned  as  somewhat  the  cut  of  a  villain.' 

'Granted,  man  —  granted,'  said  the  other,  'a  very 
thorough-paced  rascal,  but  able,  my  lord  —  able  and 
necessary,  and  in  this  plan  indispensable.  Pshaw!  This 
champagne  turns  stronger  as  it  gets  older,  I  think.' 

'Hark,  mine  honest  fellow,'  said  the  courtier;  'I  would 

'  See  Note  3 . 

^  Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  the  politician  and 
intriguer  of  the  period. 

88  81 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

thou  wouldst  give  me  some  item  of  all  this  mystery. 
Thou  hast  it,  I  know;  for  whom  do  men  entrust  but 
trusty  ChiflSnch?' 

'It  is  your  pleasure  to  say  so,  my  lord,'  answered 
Smith  (whom  we  shall  hereafter  call  by  his  real  name  of 
Chiffinch),  with  much  drunken  gravity,  for  his  speech 
had  become  a  little  altered  by  his  copious  libations  in  the 
course  of  the  evening;  'few  men  know  more,  or  say  less, 
than  I  do;  and  it  well  becomes  my  station.  Conticuere 
omnes,  as  the  grammar  hath  it:  all  men  should  learn 
to  hold  their  tongue.' 

*  Except  with  a  friend,  Tom  —  except  with  a  friend. 
Thou  wilt  never  be  such  a  dog-bolt  as  to  refuse  a  hint  to 
a  friend?  Come,  you  get  too  wise  and  statesmanlike  for 
your  office.  The  ligatures  of  thy  most  peasantly  jacket 
there  are  like  to  burst  with  thy  secret.  Come,  undo  a 
button,  man ;  it  is  for  the  health  of  thy  constitution.  Let 
out  a  reef;  and  let  thy  chosen  friend  know  what  is  medi- 
tating. Thou  knowest  I  am  as  true  as  thyself  to  little 
Anthony,  if  he  can  but  get  uppermost.' 

'//,  thou  lordly  infidel ! '  said  Chifiinch;  'talk'st  thou 
to  me  of  ifs  ?  There  is  neither  if  nor  and  in  the  matter. 
The  great  Madam  shall  be  pulled  a  peg  down  —  the 
great  Plot  screwed  a  peg  or  two  up.  Thou  knowest  Ned? 
Honest  Ned  had  a  brother's  death  to  revenge.' 

*I  have  heard  so,'  said  the  nobleman;  'and  that  his 
persevering  resentment  of  that  injury  was  one  of  the  few 
points  which  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  heathenish  virtue  in 
him.' 

'Well,'  continued  Chiffinch,  'in  manoeuvring  to  bring 
about  this  revenge,  which  he  hath  laboured  at  many  a 
day,  he  hath  discovered  a  treasure.' 

82 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'What!   In  the  Isle  of  Man?'  said  his  companion. 

'Assure  yourself  of  it.  She  is  a  creature  so  lovely,  that 
she  needs  but  be  seen  to  put  down  every  one  of  the 
favourites,  from  Portsmouth  and  Cleveland  down  to 
that  three-penny  baggage.  Mistress  Nelly.' 

'By  my  word,  Chiffinch,'  said  my  lord,  'that  is  a  re- 
inforcement after  the  fashion  of  thine  own  best  tactics. 
But  bethink  thee,  man!  To  make  such  a  conquest,  there 
wants  more  than  a  cherry  cheek  and  a  bright  eye:  there 
must  be  wit  —  wit,  man,  and  manners,  and  a  little  sense 
besides,  to  keep  influence  when  it  is  gotten.' 

'Pshaw!  will  you  tell  me  what  goes  to  this  vocation?* 
said  Chiffinch,  'Here,  pledge  me  her  health  in  a  brimmer. 
Nay,  you  shall  do  it  on  knees,  too.  Never  such  a  triumph- 
ant beauty  was  seen.  I  went  to  church  on  purpose,  for 
the  first  time  these  ten  years.  Yet  I  lie,  it  was  not  to 
church  neither  —  it  was  to  chapel.' 

'To  chapel!  What  the  devil,  is  she  a  Puritan?'  ex- 
claimed the  other  courtier. 

'To  be  sure  she  is.  Do  you  think  I  would  be  accessory 
to  bringing  a  Papist  into  favour  in  these  times,  when,  as 
my  good  lord  said  in  the  House,  there  should  not  be  a 
Popish  man-servant,  nor  a  Popish  maid-servant,  not  so 
much  as  dog  or  cat,  left  to  bark  or  mew  about  the 
Kingl'i 

'But  consider,  ChiflEie,  the  dislikelihood  of  her  pleas- 
ing,'said  the  noble  courtier.  'What!  Old  Rowley,  with 
his  wit  and  love  of  wit,  his  wildness  and  love  of  wildness 
—  he  form  a  league  with  a  silly,  scrupulous,  unidea'd 
Puritan!  Not  if  she  were  Venus.' 

'Thou  knowest  nought  of  the  matter,'  answered 

^  Such  was  the  extravagance  of  Shaftesbury's  eloquence. 
83 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Chiffinch.  'I  tell  thee,  the  fine  contrast  between  the 
seeming  saint  and  falling  sinner  will  give  zest  to  the  old 
gentleman's  inclinations.  If  I  do  not  know  him,  who 
does?  Her  health,  my  lord,  on  your  bare  knee,  as  you 
would  live  to  be  of  the  bed-chamber!' 

*I  pledge  you  most  devoutly,'  answered  his  friend. 
'But  you  have  not  told  me  how  the  acquaintance  is  to  be 
made;  for  you  cannot,  I  think,  carry  her  to  Whitehall.' 

'Aha,  my  dear  lord,  you  would  have  the  whole  secret! 
but  that  I  cannot  afford.  I  can  spare  a  friend  a  peep  at 
my  ends,  but  no  one  must  look  on  the  means  by  which 
they  are  achieved,'  So  saying,  he  shook  his  drunken 
head  most  wisely. 

The  villainous  design  which  this  discourse  implied, 
and  which  his  heart  told  him  was  designed  against  Alice 
Bridgenorth,  stirred  Julian  so  extremely  that  he  invol- 
untarily shifted  his  posture  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword 
hilt. 

Chiffinch  heard  a  rustling,  and  broke  off,  exclaiming, 
*  Hark  I  Zounds,  something  moved.  I  trust  I  have  told 
the  tale  to  no  ears  but  thine.' 

*  I  will  cut  off  any  which  have  drunk  in  but  a  syllable 
of  thy  words,'  said  the  nobleman;  and  raising  a  candle, 
he  took  a  hasty  survey  of  the  apartment.  Seeing  nothing 
that  could  incur  his  menaced  resentment,  he  replaced 
the  light  and  continued:  'Well,  suppose  the  Belle  Louise 
de  Querouaille  ^  shoots  from  her  high  station  in  the 
firmament,  how  will  you  rear  up  the  down-fallen  Plot 
again;  for  without  that  same  Plot,  think  of  it  as  thou  wilt, 
we  have  no  change  of  hands,  and  matters  remain  as  they 

*  Charles's  principal  mistress  en  litre.  She  was  created  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth. 

84 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

were,  with  a  Protestant  courtesan  instead  of  a  Papist. 
Little  Anthony  can  but  little  speed  without  that  Plot 
of  his.  I  believe,  in  my  conscience,  he  begot  it  himself.'  ^ 

'Whoever  begot  it,'  said  Chiffinch,  'he  hath  adopted 
it;  and  a  thriving  babe  it  has  been  to  him.  Well,  then, 
though  it  lies  out  of  my  way,  I  will  play  St.  Peter  again  — 
up  with  t'other  key  and  unlock  t'other  mystery.' 

'Now  thou  speakest  like  a  good  fellow;  and  I  will,  with 
my  own  hands,  unwire  this  fresh  flask,  to  begin  a  brim- 
mer to  the  success  of  thy  achievement.' 

*  Well,  then,'  continued  the  communicative  Chiffinch, 
'thou  knowest  that  they  have  long  had  a  nibbling  at 
the  old  Countess  of  Derby.  So  Ned  was  sent  down  — 
he  owes  her  an  old  accompt,  thou  knowest  —  with  pri- 
vate instructions  to  possess  himself  of  the  island,  if  he 
could,  by  help  of  some  of  his  old  friends.  He  hath  ever 
kept  up  spies  upon  her;  and  happy  man  was  he  to 
think  his  hour  of  vengeance  was  come  so  nigh.  But  he 
missed  his  blow;  and  the  old  girl,  being  placed  on  her 
guard,  was  soon  in  a  condition  to  make  Ned  smoke  for 
it.  Out  of  the  island  he  came  with  little  advantage  for 
having  entered  it;  when,  by  some  means  —  for  the 
devil,  I  think,  stands  ever  his  friend  —  he  obtained 
information  concerning  a  messenger,  whom  her  old 
Majesty  of  Man  had  sent  to  London  to  make  party  in 
her  behalf.  Ned  stuck  himself  to  this  fellow  —  a  raw, 
half-bred  lad,  son  of  an  old  blundering  Cavalier  of  the 
old  stamp,  down  in  Derbyshire,  and  so  managed  the 
swain,  that  he  brought  him  to  the  place  where  I  was 
waiting,  in  anxious  expectation  of  the  pretty  one  I  told 

^  Shaftesbury  himself  is  supposed  to  have  said  that  he  knew  not  who 
was  the  inventor  of  the  Plot,  but  that  he  himself  had  all  the  advantage 
of  the  discovery. 

85 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

you  of.  By  St.  Anthony,  for  I  will  swear  by  no  meaner 
oath,  I  stared  when  I  saw  this  great  lout  —  not  that  the 
fellow  is  so  ill-looked  neither  —  I  stared  like — like  — 
good  now,  help  me  to  a  simile.' 

'Like  St.  Anthony's  pig,  an  it  were  sleek,'  said  the 
young  lord;  'your  eyes,  Chiffie,  have  the  very  blink  of 
one.  But  what  hath  all  this  to  do  with  the  Plot?  Hold; 
I  have  had  wine  enough.' 

'You  shall  not  baulk  me,'  said  Chiffinch;  and  a  jingling 
was  heard,  as  if  he  were  filling  his  comrade's  glass  with  a 
very  unsteady  hand.  *Hey!  What  the  devil  is  the  mat- 
ter? I  used  to  carry  my  glass  steady  —  very  steady.' 

'Well,  but  this  stranger?' 

'Why,  he  swept  at  game  and  ragout  as  he  would  at 
spring  beef  or  summer  mutton.  Never  saw  so  unnurtured 
a  cub.  Knew  no  more  what  he  eat  than  an  infidel.  I 
cursed  him  by  my  gods  when  I  saw  Chaubert's  chef- 
d^oeuvres  glutted  down  so  indifferent  a  throat.  We  took 
the  freedom  to  spice  his  goblet  a  little,  and  ease  him  of 
his  packet  of  letters;  and  the  fool  went  on  his  way  the 
next  morning  with  a  budget  artificially  filled  with  grey 
paper.  Ned  would  have  kept  him,  in  hopes  to  have  made 
a  witness  of  him,  but  the  boy  was  not  of  that  mettle.' 

'How  will  you  prove  your  letters?'  said  the  courtier. 

'La  you  there,  my  lord,'  said  Chiffinch;  'one  may  see 
with  half  an  eye,  for  all  your  laced  doublet,  that  you 
have  been  of  the  family  of  Furnival's,  before  your  bro- 
ther's death  sent  you  to  court.  How  prove  the  letters? 
Why,  we  have  but  let  the  sparrow  fly  with  a  string  round 
his  foot.  We  have  him  again  so  soon  as  we  list.' 

'Why,  thou  art  turned  a  very  Machiavel,  Chiffinch,' 
said  his  friend.   'But  how  if  the  youth  proved  restiff?  I 

86 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

have  heard  these  Peak  men  have  hot  heads  and  hard 
hands.' 

'Trouble  not  yourself,  that  was  cared  for,  my  lord/ 
said  Chiffinch;  'his  pistols  might  bark,  but  they  could 
not  bite.' 

'Most  exquisite  Chiffinch,  thou  art  turned  micher  as 
well  as  padder.  Canst  both  rob  a  man  and  kidnap 
him!' 

'Micher  and  padder  —  what  terms  be  these?'  said 
Chiffinch.  'Methinks  these  are  sounds  to  lug  out  upon. 
You  will  have  me  angry  to  the  degree  of  falHng  foul  — 
robber  and  kidnapper!' 

'You  mistake  verb  for  noun-substantive,'  replied  his 
lordship ; '  I  said  rob  and  kidnap  —  a  man  may  do  either 
once  and  away  without  being  professional.' 

'But  not  without  spilling  a  little  foolish  noble  blood, 
or  some  such  red-coloured  gear,'  said  Chiffinch,  start- 
ing up. 

'Oh  yes,'  said  his  lordship;  'all  this  may  be  without 
these  direful  consequences,  and  so  you  will  find  to-mor- 
row, when  you  return  to  England;  for  at  present  you  are 
in  the  land  of  champagne,  Chiffie;  and  that  you  may 
continue  so,  I  drink  thee  this  parting  cup  to  line  thy 
nightcap.' 

'I  do  not  refuse  your  pledge,'  said  Chiffinch;  'but  I 
drink  to  thee  in  dudgeon  and  in  hostility.  It  is  a  cup 
of  wrath  and  a  gage  of  battle.  To-morrow,  by  dawn,  I 
will  have  thee  at  point  of  fox,  wert  thou  the  last  of  the 
Savilles.  What  the  devil!  think  you  I  fear  you  because 
you  are  a  lord?' 

'Not  so,  Chiffinch,'  answered  his  companion.  ' I  know 
thou  fearest  nothing  but  beans  and  bacon,  washed  down 

87 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

with  bumpkin-like  beer.  Adieu,  sweet  ChiflSnch  —  to 
bed,  ChifRnch  —  to  bed.' 

So  saying,  he  hfted  a  candle  and  left  the  apartment. 
And  Chiffinch,  whom  the  last  draught  had  nearly  over- 
powered, had  just  strength  enough  left  to  do  the  same, 
muttering,  as  he  staggered  out,  *  Yes,  he  shall  answer  it. 
Dawn  of  day!  D — n  me,  it  is  come  already.  Yonder 's 
the  dawn.  No,  d — n  me,  't  is  the  fire  glancing  on  the 
cursed  red  lattice.  I  am  whistle-drunk,  I  think.  This 
comes  of  a  country  inn.  It  is  the  smell  of  the  brandy 
in  this  cursed  room.  It  could  not  be  the  wine.  Well,  Old 
Rowley  shall  send  me  no  more  errands  to  the  country 
again.  Steady  —  steady.' 

So  saying,  he  reeled  out  of  the  apartment,  leaving 
Peveril  to  think  over  the  extraordinary  conversation 
he  had  Just  heard. 

The  name  of  Chiffinch,  the  well-known  minister  of 
Charles's  pleasures,  was  nearly  allied  to  the  part  which 
he  seemed  about  to  play  in  the  present  intrigue ;  but  that 
Christian,  whom  he  had  always  supposed  a  Puritan  as 
strict  as  his  brother-in-law  Bridgenorth,  should  be  asso- 
ciated with  him  in  a  plot  so  infamous,  seemed  alike  im- 
natural  and  monstrous.  The  near  relationship  might 
blind  Bridgenorth,  and  warrant  him  in  confiding  his 
daughter  to  such  a  man's  charge;  but  what  a  wretch 
he  must  be  that  could  coolly  meditate  such  an  ignomini- 
ous abuse  of  his  trust!  In  doubt  whether  he  could  credit 
for  a  moment  the  tale  which  Chiffinch  had  revealed,  he 
hastily  examined  his  packet,  and  found  that  the  sealskin 
case  in  which  it  had  been  wrapt  up  now  only  contained 
an  equal  quantity  of  waste-paper.  If  he  had  wanted 
further  confirmation,  the  failure  of  the  shot  which  he  had 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

fired  at  Bridgenorth,  and  of  which  the  wadding  only 
struck  him,  showed  that  his  arms  had  been  tampered 
with.  He  examined  the  pistol  which  still  remained 
charged,  and  found  that  the  ball  had  been  drawn.  *May 
I  perish/  said  he  to  himself,  'amid  these  villainous  in- 
trigues, but  thou  shalt  be  more  surely  loaded,  and  to 
better  purpose !  The  contents  of  these  papers  may  undo 
my  benefactress;  their  having  been  found  on  me  may 
ruin  my  father;  that  I  have  been  the  bearer  of  them  may 
cost,  in  these  fiery  times,  my  own  life  —  that  I  care  least 
for;  they  form  a  branch  of  the  scheme  laid  against  the 
honour  and  happiness  of  a  creature  so  innocent,  that  it  is 
almost  sin  to  think  of  her  within  the  neighbourhood  of 
such  infamous  knaves.  I  will  recover  the  letters  at  all 
risks.  But  how?  that  is  to  be  thought  on.  Lance  is  stout 
and  trusty;  and  when  a  bold  deed  is  once  resolved  upon, 
there  never  yet  lacked  the  means  of  executing  it.' 

His  host  now  entered  with  an  apology  for  his  long 
absence ;  and  after  providing  Peveril  with  some  refresh- 
ments, invited  him  to  accept,  for  his  night-quarters,  the 
accommodation  of  a  remote  hay-loft,  which  he  was  to 
share  with  his  comrade;  professing,  at  the  same  time,  he 
could  hardly  have  afforded  them  this  courtesy,  but  out 
of  deference  to  the  exquisite  talents  of  Lance  Outram,  as 
Assistant  at  the  tap;  where,  indeed,  it  seems  probable 
that  he,  as  well  as  the  admiring  landlord,  did  that 
evening  contrive  to  drink  nearly  as  much  liquor  as  they 
drew. 

But  Lance  was  a  seasoned  vessel,  on  whom  liquor 
made  no  lasting  impression;  so  that,  when  Peveril 
awaked  that  trusty  follower  at  dawn,  he  found  him  cool 
enough  to  comprehend  and  enter  into  the  design  which 

89 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

he  expressed  of  recovering  the  letters  which  had  been 
abstracted  from  his  person. 

Having  considered  the  whole  matter  with  much  at- 
tention, Lance  shrugged,  grinned,  and  scratched  his 
head;  and  at  length  manfully  expressed  his  resolution. 
'Well,  my  naunt  speaks  truth  in  her  old  saw  — 

He  that  serves  Peveril  maunna  be  slack, 
Neither  for  weather  nor  yet  for  wrack. 

And  then,  again,  my  good  dame  was  wont  to  say,  that 
whenever  Peveril  was  in  a  broil,  Outram  was  in  a  stew; 
so  I  will  never  bear  a  base  mind,  but  even  hold  a  part 
with  you,  as  my  fathers  have  done  with  yours,  for  four 
generations,  whatever  more.' 

*  Spoken  like  a  most  gallant  Outram,'  said  Julian;  'and 
were  we  but  rid  of  that  puppy  lord  and  his  retinue,  we 
two  could  easily  deal  with  the  other  three.' 

'Two  Londoners  and  a  Frenchman!'  said  Lance.  *I 
would  take  them  in  mine  own  hand.  And  as  for  my  Lord 
Saville,  as  they  call  him,  I  heard  word  last  night  that  he 
and  all  his  men  of  gilded  gingerbread  —  that  looked  at 
an  honest  fellow  Uke  me  as  if  they  were  the  ore  and  I 
the  dross  —  are  all  to  be  off  this  morning  to  some  races, 
or  such-like  junketings,  about  Tutbury.  It  was  that 
brought  him  down  here,  where  he  met  this  other  civet- 
cat  by  accident.' 

In  truth,  even  as  Lance  spoke,  a  trampling  was  heard 
of  horses  in  the  yard;  and  from  the  hatch  of  their  hay- 
loft they  beheld  Lord  Saville's  attendants  mustered,  and 
ready  to  set  out  as  soon  as  he  should  make  his  appear- 
ance. 

*  So  ho.  Master  Jeremy,'  said  one  of  the  fellows  to  a 

90 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

sort  of  principal  attendant,  who  Just  came  out  of  the 
house, '  methinks  the  wine  has  proved  a  sleeping-cup  to 
my  lord  this  morning.' 

'No,'  answered  Jeremy,'he  hath  been  up  before  light, 
writing  letters  for  London;  and  to  punish  thy  irrever- 
ence, thou,  Jonathan,  shalt  be  the  man  to  ride  back  with 
them.' 

'And  so  to  miss  the  race!'  said  Jonathan,  sulkily.  'I 
thank  you  for  this  good  turn,  good  Master  Jeremy;  and 
hang  me  if  I  forget  it.' 

Further  discussion  was  cut  short  by  the  appearance  of 
the  young  nobleman,  who,  as  he  came  out  of  the  inn,  said 
to  Jeremy,  'These  be  the  letters.  Let  one  of  the  knaves 
ride  to  London  for  life  and  death,  and  deliver  them  as 
directed;  and  the  rest  of  them  get  to  horse  and  follow 
me.' 

Jeremy  gave  Jonathan  the  packet  with  a  maUcious 
smile;  and  the  disappointed  groom  turned  his  horse's 
head  sullenly  towards  London,  while  Lord  Saville  and 
the  rest  of  his  retinue  rode  briskly  off  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion, pursued  by  the  benedictions  of  the  host  and  his 
family,  who  stood  bowing  and  curtsying  at  the  door, 
in  gratitude,  doubtless,  for  the  receipt  of  an  unconscion- 
able reckoning. 

It  was  full  three  hours  after  their  departure  that 
Chifiinch  lounged  into  the  room  in  which  they  had 
supped,  in  a  brocade  nightgown,  and  green  velvet  cap, 
turned  up  with  the  most  costly  Brussels  lace.  He  seemed 
but  half  awake;  and  it  was  with  drowsy  voice  that  he 
called  for  a  cup  of  cold  small  beer.  His  manner  and 
appearance  were  those  of  a  man  who  had  wrestled  hard 
with  Bacchus  on  the  preceding  evening,  and  had  scarce 

91 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

recovered  the  effects  of  his  contest  with  the  Jolly  god. 
Lance,  instructed  by  his  master  to  watch  the  motions  of 
the  courtier,  officiously  attended  with  the  cooling  bever- 
age he  called  for,  pleading,  as  an  excuse  to  the  landlord, 
his  wish  to  see  a  Londoner  in  his  morning  gown  and 
cap. 

No  sooner  had  Chiffinch  taken  his  morning  draught 
than  he  inquired  after  Lord  Saville. 

'His  lordship  was  mounted  and  away  by  peep  of 
dawn,'  was  Lance's  reply. 

'What  the  devil!'  exclaimed  Chiffinch;  'why,  this  is 
scarce  civil.  What!  off  for  the  races  with  his  whole  reti- 
nue?' 

'All  but  one,'  replied  Lance,  'whom  his  lordship  sent 
back  to  London  with  letters.' 

'To  London  with  letters!'  said  Chiffinch.  'Why,  I 
am  for  London,  and  could  have  saved  his  express  a  la- 
bour. But  stop  —  hold  —  I  begin  to  recollect;  d — n, 
can  I  have  blabbed  ?  I  have  —  I  have  —  I  remember  it 
all  now  —  I  have  blabbed,  and  to  the  very  weasel  of  the 
court,  who  sucks  the  yolk  out  of  every  man's  secret. 
Furies  and  fire  —  that  my  afternoons  should  ruin  my 
mornings  thus !  I  must  turn  boon  companion  and  good 
fellow  in  my  cups;  and  have  my  confidences  and  my 
quarrels,  my  friends  and  my  enemies,  with  a  plague  to 
me,  as  if  any  one  could  do  a  man  much  good  or  harm  but 
his  own  self!  His  messenger  must  be  stopped,  though;  I 
will  put  a  spoke  in  his  wheel.  Hark  ye,  drawer-fellow, 
call  my  groom  hither  —  call  Tom  Beacon.' 

Lance  obeyed;  but  failed  not,  when  he  had  introduced 
the  domestic,  to  remain  in  the  apartment,  in  order  to 
hear  what  should  pass  betwixt  him  and  his  master. 

92 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*Hark  ye,  Tom/  said  Chiffinch,  'here  are  five  pieces 
for  you.' 

'What's  to  be  done  now,  I  trow?'  said  Tom,  without 
even  the  ceremony  of  returning  thanks,  which  he  was 
probably  well  aware  would  not  be  received  even  in  part 
payment  of  the  debt  he  was  incurring. 

*  Mount  your  fleet  nag,  Tom  —  ride  like  the  devil  — 
overtake  the  groom  whom  Lord  Saville  despatched  to 
London  this  morning  —  lame  his  horse  —  break  his 
bones  —  fill  him  as  drunk  as  the  Baltic  Sea  —  or  do 
whatever  may  best  and  most  effectually  stop  his  jour- 
ney. Why  does  the  lout  stand  there  without  answering 
me?  Dost  understand  me?' 

'Why,  ay,  Master  Chiffinch,'  said  Tom;  'and  so  I  am 
thinking  doth  this  honest  man  here,  who  need  not  have 
heard  quite  so  much  of  your  counsel,  an  it  had  been  your 
will.' 

*I  am  bewitched  this  morning,'  said  Chifi5nch  to  him- 
self, *or  else  the  champagne  runs  in  my  head  still.  My 
brain  has  become  the  very  lowlands  of  Holland :  a  gill 
cup  would  inundate  it.  Hark  thee,  fellow,'  he  added, 
addressing  Lance,  'keep  my  counsel;  there  is  a  wager  be- 
twixt Lord  Saville  and  me,  which  of  us  shall  first  have  a 
letter  in  London.  Here  is  to  drink  my  health  and  bring 
luck  on  my  side.  Say  nothing  of  it;  but  help  Tom  to  his 
nag.  Tom,  ere  thou  startest,  come  for  thy  credentials. 
I  will  give  thee  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Bucks,  that  may 
be  evidence  thou  wert  first  in  town.' 

Tom  Beacon  ducked  and  exit;  and  Lance,  after  having 
made  some  show  of  helping  him  to  horse,  ran  back  to  tell 
his  master  the  joyful  intelligence  that  a  lucky  accident 
had  abated  Chif&nch's  party  to  their  own  number. 

93 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Peveril  immediately  ordered  his  horses  to  be  got 
ready;  and,  so  soon  as  Tom  Beacon  was  despatched 
towards  London  on  a  rapid  trot,  had  the  satisfaction 
to  observe  ChiflSnch,  with  his  favourite  Chaubert,  mount 
to  pursue  the  same  journey,  though  at  a  more  moderate 
rate.  He  permitted  them  to  attain  such  a  distance  that 
they  might  be  dogged  without  suspicion ;  then  paid  his 
reckoning,  mounted  his  horse,  and  followed,  keeping  his 
men  carefully  in  view,  until  he  should  come  to  a  place 
proper  for  the  enterprise  which  he  meditated. 

It  had  been  Peveril's  intention  that,  when  they  came 
to  some  solitary  part  of  the  road,  they  should  gradually 
mend  their  pace,  until  they  overtook  Chaubert;  that 
Lance  Outram  should  then  drop  behind,  in  order  to  as- 
sail the  man  of  spits  and  stoves,  while  he  himself,  spur- 
ring onward,  should  grapple  with  Chiffinch.  But  this 
scheme  presupposed  that  the  master  and  servant  should 
travel  in  the  usual  manner  —  the  latter  riding  a  few 
yards  behind  the  former.  Whereas,  such  and  so  inter- 
esting were  the  subjects  of  discussion  betwixt  Chiffinch 
and  the  French  cook,  that,  without  heeding  the  rules 
of  etiquette,  they  rode  on  together,  amicably  abreast, 
carrying  on  a  conversation  on  the  mysteries  of  the  table, 
which  the  ancient  Comus,  or  a  modern  gastronome, 
might  have  listened  to  with  pleasure.  It  was,  therefore, 
necessary  to  venture  on  them  both  at  once. 

For  this  purpose,  when  they  saw  a  long  tract  of  road 
before  them,  unvaried  by  the  least  appearance  of  man, 
beast,  or  human  habitation,  they  began  to  mend  their 
pace,  that  they  might  come  up  to  Chiffinch,  without 
giving  him  any  alarm  by  a  sudden  and  suspicious  in- 
crease of  haste.    In  this  manner,  they  lessened  the  dis- 

94 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tance  which  separated  them  till  they  were  within  about 
twenty  yards,  when  Peveril,  afraid  that  Chiffinch  might 
recognise  him  at  a  nearer  approach,  and  so  trust  to  his 
horse's  heels,  made  Lance  the  signal  to  charge. 

At  the  sudden  increase  of  their  speed,  and  the  noise 
with  which  it  was  necessarily  attended,  Chiffinch  looked 
around,  but  had  time  to  do  no  more,  for  Lance,  who  had 
pricked  his  pony,  which  was  much  more  speedy  than 
Julian's  horse,  into  full  gallop,  pushed,  without  cere- 
mony, betwixt  the  courtier  and  his  attendant;  and  ere 
Chaubert  had  time  for  more  than  one  exclamation,  he 
upset  both  horse  and  Frenchman;  'mortbleur  thrilhng 
from  his  tongue  as  he  rolled  on  the  ground  amongst  the 
various  articles  of  his  occupation,  which,  escaping  from 
the  budget  in  which  he  bore  them,  lay  tumbled  upon  the 
highway  in  strange  disorder;  while  Lance,  springing  from 
his  palfrey,  commanded  his  foeman  to  be  still,  under  no 
less  a  penalty  than  that  of  death,  if  he  attempted  to 
rise. 

Before  Chiffinch  could  avenge  his  trusty  follower's 
downfall,  his  own  bridle  was  seized  by  Julian,  who  pre- 
sented a  pistol  with  the  other  hand,  and  commanded  him 
to  stand  or  die. 

Chiffinch,  though  effeminate,  was  no  coward.  He 
stood  still  as  commanded,  and  said,  with  firmness, 
'Rogue,  you  have  taken  me  at  surprise.  If  you  are  a 
highwayman,  there  is  my  purse.  Do  us  no  bodily  harm, 
and  spare  the  budget  of  spices  and  sauces.' 

'Look  you,  Master  Chiffinch,'  said  Peveril,  'this  is 
no  time  for  dallying.  I  am  no  highwayman,  but  a  man 
of  honour.  Give  me  back  that  packet  which  you  stole 
from  me  the  other  night;  or,  by  all  that  is  good,  I  will 

95 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

send  a  brace  of  balls  through  you,  and  search  for  it  at 
leisure.' 

'  What  night?  What  packet? '  answered  Chifl5nch,  con- 
fused; yet  willing  to  protract  the  time  for  the  chance  of 
assistance,  or  to  put  Peveril  off  his  guard.  'I  know  no- 
thing of  what  you  mean.  If  you  are  a  man  of  honour,  let 
me  draw  my  sword,  and  I  will  do  you  right,  as  a  gentle- 
man should  do  to  another.' 

*  Dishonourable  rascal ! '  said  Peveril,  '  you  escape  not 
in  this  manner.  You  plundered  me  when  you  had  me  at 
odds ;  and  I  am  not  the  fool  to  let  my  advantage  escape, 
now  that  my  turn  is  come.  Yield  up  the  packet;  and 
then,  if  you  will,  I  will  fight  you  on  equal  terms.  But 
first,'  he  reiterated,  *  yield  up  the  packet,  or  I  will  in- 
stantly send  you  where  the  tenor  of  your  life  will  be  hard 
to  answer  for.' 

The  tone  of  Peveril's  voice,  the  fierceness  of  his  eye, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  held  the  loaded  weapon, 
within  a  hand's-breadth  of  Chifi&nch's  head,  convinced 
the  last  there  was  neither  room  for  compromise  nor  time 
for  trifling.  He  thrust  his  hand  into  a  side-pocket  of  his 
cloak,  and  with  visible  reluctance  produced  those  papers 
and  despatches  with  which  Julian  had  been  entrusted  by 
the  Countess  of  Derby. 

'They  are  five  in  number,'  said  Julian;  'and  you  have 
given  me  only  four.  Your  life  depends  on  full  restitu- 
tion.' 

*It  escaped  from  my  hand,'  said  Chiffinch,  producing 
the  missing  document.  'There  it  is.  Now,  sir,  your 
pleasure  is  fulfilled,  unless,'  he  added,  sulkily,  'you  de- 
sign either  murder  or  further  robbery.' 

'Base  wretch!'  said  Peveril,  withdrawing  his  pistol, 
96 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

yet  keeping  a  watchful  eye  on  Chifl5nch's  motions,  'thou 
art  unworthy  any  honest  man's  sword;  and  yet,  if  you 
dare  draw  your  own,  as  you  proposed  but  now,  I  am 
willing  to  give  you  a  chance  upon  fair  equality  of  terms.' 

'Equality!'  said  Chiffinch,  sneeringly:  'yes,  a  proper 
equality  —  sword  and  pistol  against  single  rapier,  and 
two  men  upon  one,  for  Chaubert  is  no  fighter.  No, 
sir;  I  shall  seek  amends  upon  some  more  fitting  occasion, 
and  with  more  equal  weapons.' 

'By  backbiting  or  by  poison,  base  pander!'  said  Ju- 
lian ;  '  these  are  thy  means  of  vengeance.  But  mark  me 
—  I  know  your  vile  purpose  respecting  a  lady  who  is  too 
worthy  that  her  name  should  be  uttered  in  such  a  worth- 
less ear.  Thou  hast  done  me  one  injury,  and  thou  see'st 
I  have  repaid  it.  But  prosecute  this  further  villainy, 
and  be  assured  I  will  put  thee  to  death  like  a  foul  reptile, 
whose  very  slaver  is  fatal  to  humanity.  Rely  upon  this, 
as  if  Machiavel  had  sworn  it;  for  so  surely  as  you  keep 
your  purpose,  so  surely  will  I  prosecute  my  revenge. 
Follow  me.  Lance,  and  leave  him  to  think  on  what  I  have 
told  him.' 

Lance  had,  after  the  first  shock,  sustained  a  very  easy 
part  in  this  rencontre;  for  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  point 
the  butt  of  his  whip,  in  the  manner  of  a  gun,  at  the  inti- 
midated Frenchman,  who,  lying  on  his  back  and  gazing 
at  random  on  the  skies,  had  as  Httle  the  power  or  pur- 
pose of  resistance  as  any  pig  which  had  ever  come  under 
his  own  slaughter-knife. 

Summoned  by  his  master  from  the  easy  duty  of  guard- 
ing such  an  unresisting  prisoner,  Lance  remounted  his 
horse,  and  they  both  rode  off,  leaving  their  discomfited 
antagonists  to  console  themselves  for  their  misadven- 

28  97 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ture  as  they  best  could.  But  consolation  was  hard  to 
come  by  in  the  circumstances.  The  French  artist  had  to 
lament  the  dispersion  of  his  spices  and  the  destruction 
of  his  magazine  of  sauces  —  an  enchanter  despoiled  of 
his  magic  wand  and  talisman  could  scarce  have  been 
in  more  desperate  extremity.  Chiffinch  had  to  mourn 
the  downfall  of  his  intrigue  and  its  premature  discovery. 
*  To  this  fellow,  at  least,'  he  thought, '  I  can  have  bragged 
none ;  here  my  evil  genius  alone  has  betrayed  me.  With 
this  infernal  discovery,  which  may  cost  me  so  dear  on  all 
hands,  champagne  had  nought  to  do.  If  there  be  a  flask 
left  imbroken,  I  will  drink  it  after  dirmer,  and  try  if  it 
may  not  even  yet  suggest  some  scheme  of  redemption 
and  of  revenge.' 

With  this  manly  resolution,  he  prosecuted  his  journey 
to  London. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A  man  so  various,  that  he  seemed  to  be 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome; 
Stiff  in  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong, 
Was  everything  by  starts,  but  nothing  long; 
Who,  in  the  course  of  one  revolving  moon, 
Was  chemist,  fiddler,  statesman,  and  buffoon; 
Then,  all  for  women,  painting,  fiddling,  drinking; 
Besides  a  thousand  freaks  that  died  in  thinking. 

Drydem. 

We  must  now  transport  the  reader  to  the  magnificent 
hotel  in Street,  inhabited  at  this  time  by  the  cele- 
brated George  Villiers,Duke  of  Buckingham,  whom  Dry- 
den  has  doomed  to  a  painful  immortality  by  the  few  lines 
which  we  have  prefixed  to  this  chapter.  Amid  the  gay 
and  the  licentious  of  the  laughing  court  of  Charles,  the 
duke  was  the  most  licentious  and  most  gay;  yet,  while 
expending  a  princely  fortune,  a  strong  constitution,  and 
excellent  talents,  in  pursuit  of  frivolous  pleasures,  he 
nevertheless  nourished  deeper  and  more  extensive  de- 
signs; in  which  he  only  failed  from  want  of  that  fixed 
purpose  and  regulated  perseverance  essential  to  all  im- 
portant enterprises,  but  particularly  in  politics. 

It  was  long  past  noon ;  and  the  usual  hour  of  the  duke's 
levee  —  if  anything  could  be  termed  usual  where  all  was 
irregular  —  had  been  long  past.  His  hall  was  filled  with 
lackeys  and  footmen  in  the  most  splendid  liveries,  the 
interior  apartments  with  the  gentlemen  and  pages  of  his 
household  arrayed  as  persons  of  the  first  quality,  and, 
in  that  respect,  rather  exceeding  than  falling  short  of  the 
duke  in  personal  splendour.    But  his  ante-chamber,  in 

99 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

particular,  might  be  compared  to  a  gathering  of  eagles 
to  the  slaughter,  were  not  the  simile  too  dignified  to  ex- 
press that  vile  race  who,  by  a  hundred  devices,  all  tend- 
ing to  one  common  end,  live  upon  the  wants  of  needy 
greatness,  or  administer  to  the  pleasures  of  summer- 
teeming  luxury,  or  stimulate  the  wild  wishes  of  lavish 
and  wasteful  extravagance,  by  devising  new  modes  and 
fresh  motives  of  profusion.  There  stood  the  projector, 
with  his  mysterious  brow,  promising  unbounded  wealth, 
to  whomsoever  might  choose  to  furnish  the  small  pre- 
liminary sum  necessary  to  change  egg-shells  into  the 
great  arcanum.  There  was  Captain  Seagull,  undertaker 
for  a  foreign  settlement,  with  the  map  under  his  arm  of 
Indian  or  American  kingdoms,  beautiful  as  the  primitive 
Eden,  waiting  the  bold  occupants,  for  whom  a  generous 
patron  should  equip  two  brigantines  and  a  fly-boat. 
Thither  came,  fast  and  frequent,  the  gamesters,  in  their 
different  forms  and  calling.  This,  Hght,  young,  gay  in  ap- 
pearance, the  thoughtless  youth  of  wit  and  pleasure  — ■ 
the  pigeon  rather  than  the  rook  —  but  at  heart  the  same 
sly,  shrewd,  cold-blooded  calculator  as  yonder  old  hard- 
featured  professor  of  the  same  science,  whose  eyes  are 
grown  dim  with  watching  the  dice  at  midnight,  and 
whose  fingers  are  even  now  assisting  his  mental  compu- 
tation of  chances  and  of  odds.  The  fine  arts,  too  —  I 
would  it  were  otherwise  —  have  their  professors  amongst 
this  sordid  train.  The  poor  poet,  half  ashamed,  in  spite 
of  habit,  of  the  part  which  he  is  about  to  perform,  and 
abashed  by  consciousness  at  once  of  his  base  motive  and 
his  shabby  black  coat,  lurks  in  yonder  comer  for  the 
favourable  moment  to  offer  his  dedication.  Much  better 
attired,  the  architect  presents  his  splendid  vision  of  front 

lOO 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  wings,  and  designs  a  palace  the  expense  of  which 
may  transfer  his  employer  to  a  jail.  But  uppermost  of 
all,  the  favourite  musician,  or  singer,  who  waits  on  my 
lord  to  receive,  in  solid  gold,  the  value  of  the  dulcet 
sounds  which  solaced  the  banquet  of  the  preceding 
evening. 

Such,  and  many  such  like,  were  the  morning  attend- 
ants of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  —  all  genuine  descend- 
ants of  the  daughter  of  the  horse-leech,  whose  cry  is 
'Give  —  give.' 

But  the  levee  of  his  Grace  contained  other  and  very 
different  characters;  and  was  indeed  as  various  as  his 
own  opinions  and  pursuits.  Besides  many  of  the  young 
nobility  and  wealthy  gentry  of  England,  who  made  his 
Grace  the  glass  at  which  they  dressed  themselves  for  the 
day,  and  who  learned  from  him  how  to  travel,  with  the 
newest  and  best  grace,  the  general  'road  to  ruin,'  there 
were  others  of  a  graver  character  —  discarded  states- 
men, political  spies,  opposition  orators,  servile  tools  of 
administration,  men  who  met  not  elsewhere,  but  who 
regarded  the  duke's  mansion  as  a  sort  of  neutral  ground, 
sure  that,  if  he  was  not  of  their  opinion  to-day,  this  very 
circumstance  rendered  it  most  likely  he  should  think 
with  them  to-morrow.  The  Puritans  themselves  did  not 
shun  intercourse  with  a  man  whose  talents  must  have 
rendered  him  formidable,  even  if  they  had  not  been 
united  with  high  rank  and  an  immense  fortune.  Several 
grave  personages,  with  black  suits,  short  cloaks,  and 
bandstrings  of  a  formal  cut,  were  mingled,  as  we  see 
their  portraits  in  a  gallery  of  paintings,  among  the  gal- 
lants who  ruflfled  in  silk  and  embroidery.  It  is  true,  they 
escaped  the  scandal  of  being  thought  intimates  of  the 

lOI 


-^•4 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

duke,  by  their  business  being  supposed  to  refer  to  money 
matters.  Whether  these  grave  and  professing  citizens 
mixed  politics  with  money-lending  was  not  known ;  but 
it  had  been  long  observed  that  the  Jews,  who  in  general 
confine  themselves  to  the  latter  department,  had  be- 
come for  some  time  faithful  attendants  at  the  duke's 
levee. 

It  was  high-tide  in  the  ante-chamber,  and  had  been 
so  for  more  than  an  hour,  ere  the  duke's  gentleman  in 
ordinary  ventured  into  his  bedchamber,  carefully  dark- 
ened so  as  to  make  midnight  at  noonday,  to  know  his 
Grace's  pleasure.  His  soft  and  serene  whisper,  in  which 
he  asked  whether  it  were  his  Grace's  pleasure  to  rise, 
was  briefly  and  sharply  answered  by  the  counter  ques- 
tions, 'Who  waits?  What's  o'clock?' 

'It  is  Jerningham,  your  Grace,'  said  the  attendant. 
'  It  is  one  afternoon ;  and  your  Grace  appointed  some  of 
the  people  without  at  eleven.' 

'Who  are  they?  What  do  they  want? ' 

'A  message  from  WTiitehall,  your  Grace.' 

'Pshaw!  it  will  keep  cold.  Those  who  make  all  others 
wait  will  be  the  better  of  waiting  in  their  turn.  Were  I 
to  be  guilty  of  ill-breeding,  it  should  rather  be  to  a  king 
than  a  beggar.' 

'The  gentlemen  from  the  city.' 

*I  am  tired  of  them  —  tired  of  their  all  cant  and  no 
religion  —  all  Protestantism  and  no  charity.  Tell  them 
to  go  to  Shaftesbury  —  to  Aldersgate  Street  with  them 
—  that's  the  best  market  for  their  wares.' 

'Jockey,  my  lord,  from  Newmarket.' 

'Let  him  ride  to  the  devil;  he  has  horse  of  mine  and 
spurs  of  his  own.   Any  more? ' 

102 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'The  whole  ante-chamber  is  full,  my  lord  —  knights 
and  squires,  doctors  and  dicers.' 

'The  dicers,  with  their  doctors  ^  in  their  pockets,  I  pre- 
sume.' 

'Counts,  captains,  and  clergymen.' 

'You  are  alHterative,  Jerningham,'  said  the  duke; 
'and  that  is  a  proof  you  are  poetical.  Hand  me  my  writ- 
ing-things.' 

Getting  half  out  of  bed  —  thrusting  one  arm  into  a 
brocaded  nightgown,  deeply  furred  with  sables,  and  one 
foot  into  a  velvet  slipper,  while  the  other  pressed  in 
primitive  nudity  the  rich  carpet — his  Grace,  without 
thinking  further  on  the  assembly  without,  began  to  pen 
a  few  lines  of  a  satirical  poem ;  then  suddenly  stopped  — 
threw  the  pen  into  the  chimney  —  exclaimed  that  the 
humour  was  past,  and  asked  his  attendant  if  there  were 
any  letters.   Jerningham  produced  a  huge  packet. 

'What  the  devil!'  said  his  Grace,  'do  you  think  I  will 
read  all  these?  I  am  like  Clarence,  who  asked  a  cup  of 
wine,  and  was  soused  into  a  butt  of  sack.  I  mean,  is 
there  anything  which  presses? ' 

'This  letter,  your  Grace,'  said  Jerningham,  'concern- 
ing the  Yorkshire  mortgage.' 

'Did  I  not  bid  thee  carry  it  to  old  Gatheral,  my 
steward?' 

'I  did,  my  lord,'  answered  the  other;  'but  Gatheral 
says  there  are  difficulties.' 

'Let  the  usurers  foreclose,  then;  there  is  no  difficulty 
in  that ;  and  out  of  a  hundred  manors  I  shall  scarce  miss 
one,'  answered  the  duke.  'And  hark  ye,  bring  me  my 
chocolate.' 

^  A  cant  name  for  false  dice. 
I03 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'Nay,  my  lord,  Gatheral  does  not  say  it  is  impossible, 
only  difficult.' 

'And  what  is  the  use  of  him,  if  he  cannot  make  it 
easy?  But  you  are  all  born  to  make  difficulties,'  replied 
the  duke. 

'  Nay,  if  your  Grace  approves  the  terms  in  this  sched- 
ule, and  pleases  to  sign  it,  Gatheral  will  undertake  for 
the  matter,'  answered  Jerningham. 

'And  could  you  not  have  said  so  at  first,  you  block- 
head?' said  the  duke,  signing  the  paper  without  looking 
at  the  contents.  'What  other  letters?  And  remember,  I 
must  be  plagued  with  no  more  business.' 

'Billets-doux,  my  lord  —  five  or  six  of  them.  This 
left  at  the  porter's  lodge  by  a  vizard  mask.' 

'Pshaw!'  answered  the  duke,  tossing  them  over,  while 
his  attendant  assisted  in  dressing  him; ' an  acquaintance 
of  a  quarter's  standing.' 

'This  given  to  one  of  the  pages  by  my  Lady 's 

waiting- woman . ' 

'Plague  on  it!  a  jeremiade  on  the  subject  of  perjury 
and  treachery,  and  not  a  single  new  line  to  the  old  tune,' 
said  the  duke,  glancing  over  the  billet.  'Plere  is  the  old 
cant  —  "cruel  man  —  broken  vows  —  Heaven's  just 
revenge."  Why,  the  woman  is  thinking  of  murder,  not 
of  love.  No  one  should  pretend  to  write  upon  so  thread- 
bare a  topic  without  having  at  least  some  novelty  of 
expression.  "The  despairing  Araminta."  Lie  there, 
fair  desperate.   And  this  —  how  comes  it? ' 

'Flung  into  the  window  of  the  hall,  by  a  fellow  who 
ran  ofif  at  full  speed,'  answered  Jerningham. 

'This  is  a  better  text,'  said  the  duke;  'and  yet  it  is  an 
old  one  too  —  three  weeks  old  at  least.  The  little  count- 

104 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ess  with  the  Jealous  lord.  I  should  not  care  a  farthing 
for  her,  save  for  that  same  jealous  lord.  Plague  on't, 
and  he's  gone  down  to  the  country  —  "this  evening  — 
in  silence  and  safety  —  written  with  a  quill  pulled  from 
the  wing  of  Cupid."  Your  ladyship  has  left  him  pen- 
feathers  enough  to  fly  away  with;  better  clipped  his 
wings  when  you  had  caught  him,  my  lady.  And  "so 
confident  of  her  Buckingham's  faith."  I  hate  confidence 
in  a  young  person.  She  must  be  taught  better.  I  will 
not  go.' 

'Your  Grace  will  not  be  so  cruel!'  said  Jerningham. 

'Thou  art  a  compassionate  fellow,  Jerningham;  but 
conceit  must  be  punished.' 

'But  if  your  lordship  should  resume  your  fancy  for 
her?' 

'Why,  then,  you  must  swear  the  billet-doux  mis- 
carried,' answered  the  duke.  'And  stay,  a  thought 
strikes  me:  it  shall  miscarry  in  great  style.  Hark  ye,  is 
—  what  is  the  fellow's  name  —  the  poet  —  is  he  yon- 
der?' 

'There  are  six  gentlemen,  sir,  who,  from  the  reams  of 
paper  in  their  pocket  and  the  threadbare  seams  at  their 
elbows,  appear  to  wear  the  livery  of  the  Muses.' 

'Poetical  once  more,  Jerningham.  He,  I  mean,  who 
wrote  the  last  lampoon,'  said  the  duke. 

'To  whom  your  Grace  said  you  owed  five  pieces  and 
a  beating? '  replied  Jerningham. 

'The  money  for  his  satire,  and  the  cudgel  for  his 
praise.  Good  —  find  him  —  give  him  the  five  pieces,  and 
thrust  the  countess's  billet-doux  —  hold  —  take  Ara- 
minta's  and  the  rest  of  them  —  thrust  them  all  into  his 
portfolio.   All  will  come  out  at  the  Wits'  Coffee-house; 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  if  the  promulgator  be  not  cudgelled  into  all  the  col- 
ours of  the  rainbow,  there  is  no  spite  in  woman,  no  faith 
in  crabtree,  or  pith  in  heart  of  oak.  Araminta's  wrath 
alone  would  overburden  one  pair  of  mortal  shoulders.' 

*But,  my  lord  duke,'  said  his  attendant,  *  this  Settle  ^ 
is  so  dull  a  rascal,  that  nothing  he  can  write  will  take.' 

'Then,  as  we  have  given  him  steel  to  head  the  arrow,' 
said  the  duke,  'we  will  give  him  wings  to  waft  it  with; 
wood  he  has  enough  of  his  own  to  make  a  shaft  or  bolt 
of.  Hand  me  my  own  unfinished  lampoon;  give  it  to 
him  with  the  letters,  let  him  make  what  he  can  of  them 
all.' 

'  My  lord  duke  —  I  crave  pardon  —  but  your  Grace's 
style  will  be  discovered;  and  though  the  ladies'  names 
are  not  at  the  letters,  yet  they  will  be  traced.' 

*I  would  have  it  so,  you  blockhead.  Have  you  lived 
with  me  so  long,  and  cannot  discover  that  the  eclai  of 
an  intrigue  is,  with  me,  worth  all  the  rest  of  it?' 

'But  the  danger,  my  lord  duke?'  replied  Jerningham. 
'There  are  husbands,  brothers,  friends,  whose  revenge 
may  be  awakened.' 

'And  beaten  to  sleep  again,'  said  Buckingham,  haught- 
ily. 'I  have  Black  Will  and  his  cudgel  for  plebeian 
grumblers;  and  those  of  quality  I  can  deal  with  myself. 
I  lack  breathing  and  exercise  of  late.'  ^ 

'But  yet  your  Grace  — ' 

'Hold  your  peace,  fool!  I  tell  you  that  your- poor 
dwarfish  spirit  cannot  measure  the  scope  of  mine.  I  tell 
thee  I  would  have  the  course  of  my  life  a  torrent :  I  am 
weary  of  easy  achievements,  and  wish  for  obstacles, 
that  I  can  sweep  before  my  irresistible  course.' 

1  See  Note  4.  *  See  Note  5. 

106 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Another  gentleman  now  entered  the  apartment.  'I 
humbly  crave  your  Grace's  pardon,'  he  said;  'but  Master 
Christian  is  so  importunate  for  admission  instantly,  that 
I  am  obliged  to  take  your  Grace's  pleasure.' 

'Tell  him  to  call  three  hours  hence.  Damn  his  politic 
pate,  that  would  make  all  men  dance  after  his  pipe ! ' 

*I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,  my  lord  duke,'  said 
Christian,  entering  the  apartment  in  somewhat  a  more 
courtly  garb,  but  with  the  same  unpretending  and  un- 
distinguished mien,  and  in  the  same  placid  and  indiffer- 
ent manner  with  which  he  had  accosted  Julian  Peveril 
upon  different  occasions  during  his  journey  to  London. 
'It  is  precisely  my  present  object  to  pipe  to  you;  and  you 
may  dance  to  your  own  profit,  if  you  will.' 

'On  my  word,  Master  Christian,'  said  the  duke, 
haughtily,  'the  affair  should  be  weighty  that  removes 
ceremony  so  entirely  from  betwixt  us.  If  it  relates  to  the 
subject  of  our  last  conversation,  I  must  request  our  in- 
terview be  postponed  to  some  further  opportunity.  I 
am  engaged  in  an  affair  of  some  weight.'  Then  turning 
his  back  on  Christian,  he  went  on  with  his  conversation 
with  Jerningham.  'Find  the  person  you  wot  of,  and 
give  him  the  papers;  and  hark  ye,  give  him  this  gold  to 
pay  for  the  shaft  of  his  arrow;  the  steel-head  and  pea- 
cock's wing  we  have  already  provided.' 

'This  is  all  well,  my  lord,'  said  Christian,  calmly,  and 
taking  his  seat  at  the  same  time  in  an  easy-chair  at  some 
distance;  'but  your  Grace's  levity  is  no  match  for  my 
equanimity.  It  is  necessary  I  should  speak  with  you;  and 
I  will  await  your  Grace's  leisure  in  the  apartment.' 

*  Very  well,  sir,'  said  the  duke,  peevishly;  'if  an  evil  is 
to  be  undergone,  the  sooner  it  is  over  the  better;  I  can 

107 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

take  measures  to  prevent  its  being  renewed.  So  let  me 
hear  your  errand  without  further  delay.' 

'I  will  wait  till  your  Grace's  toilette  is  completed/ 
said  Christian,  with  the  indifferent  tone  which  was  natu- 
ral to  him.  'What  I  have  to  say  must  be  between  our- 
selves.' 

'Begone,  Jerningham,  and  remain  without  till  I  call. 
Leave  my  doublet  on  the  couch.  How  now?  I  have  worn 
this  cloth  of  silver  a  hundred  times.' 

'Only  twice,  if  it  please  your  Grace,'  replied  Jerning- 
ham. 

'As  well  twenty  times;  keep  it  for  yourself,  or  give  it  to 
my  valet,  if  you  are  too  proud  of  your  gentility.' 

'Your  Grace  has  made  better  men  than  me  wear  your 
cast  clothes,'  said  Jerningham,  submissively. 

'Thou  art  sharp,  Jerningham,'  said  the  duke;  'in  one 
sense  I  have,  and  I  may  again.  So  now,  that  pearl-col- 
oured thing  will  do  with  the  ribbon  and  George.  Get 
away  with  thee.  And  now  that  he  is  gone,  Master  Chris- 
tian, may  I  once  more  crave  your  pleasure?' 

'My  lord  duke,'  said  Christian,  'you  are  a  worshipper 
of  difficulties  in  state  affairs,  as  in  love  matters.' 

'  I  trust  you  have  been  no  eavesdropper.  Master  Chris- 
tian,' replied  the  duke;  'it  scarce  argues  the  respect  due 
to  me  or  to  my  roof.' 

'  I  know  not  what  you  mean,  my  lord,'  replied  Chris- 
tian. 

'Nay,  I  care  not  if  the  whole  world  heard  what  I  said 
but  now  to  Jerningham.  But  to  the  matter,'  replied  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham. 

'  Your  Grace  is  so  much  occupied  with  conquests  over 
the  fair  and  over  the  witty,  that  you  have  perhaps  for- 

io8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

gotten  what  a  stake  you  have  in  the  little  Island  of 
Man.' 

'Not  a  whit,  Master  Christian.  I  remember  well 
enough  that  my  Roundheaded  father-in-law,  Fairfax, 
had  the  island  from  the  Long  ParUament;  and  was  ass 
enough  to  quit  hold  of  it  at  the  Restoration,  when,  if  he 
had  closed  his  clutches  and  held  fast,  like  a  true  bird  of 
prey,  as  he  should  have  done,  he  might  have  kept  it  for 
him  and  his.  It  had  been  a  rare  thing  to  have  had  a  little 
kingdom  —  made  laws  of  my  own  —  had  my  chamber- 
lain with  his  white  staff;  I  would  have  taught  Jerning- 
ham,  in  half  a  day,  to  look  as  wise,  walk  as  stifHy,  and 
speak  as  sillily,  as  Harry  Bennet.'  ^ 

'You  might  have  done  this,  and  more,  if  it  had  pleased 
your  Grace.' 

'Ay,  and  if  it  had  pleased  my  Grace,  thou,  Ned  Chris- 
tian, shouldst  have  been  the  Jack  Ketch  of  my  domin- 
ions.' 

*/  your  Jack  Ketch,  my  lord?'  said  Christian,  more  in 
a  tone  of  surprise  than  of  displeasure. 

'Why,  ay;  thou  hast  been  perpetually  intriguing 
against  the  life  of  yonder  poor  old  woman.  It  were  a 
kingdom  to  thee  to  gratify  thy  spleen  with  thy  own 
hands.' 

'I  only  seek  justice  against  the  countess,'  said  Chris- 
tian. 

'And  the  end  of  justice  is  always  a  gibbet,'  said  the 
duke. 

'Be  it  so,'  answered  Christian.  'Well,  the  countess  is 
in  the  Plot.' 

'The  devil  confound  the  Plot,  as  I  believe  he  first 

^  See  Note  6. 
109 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

invented  it!'  said  the  Duke  of  Buckingham;  *I  have 
heard  of  nothing  else  for  months.  If  one  must  go  to  hell, 
I  would  it  were  by  some  new  road,  and  in  gentlemen's 
company.  I  should  not  Uke  to  travel  with  Gates,  Bedloe, 
and  the  rest  of  that  famous  cloud  of  witnesses.' 

'  Your  Grace  is  then  resolved  to  forego  all  the  advan- 
tages which  may  arise?  If  the  house  of  Derby  fall  under 
forfeiture,  the  grant  to  Fairfax,  now  worthily  represented 
by  your  duchess,  revives;  and  you  become  the  lord  and 
sovereign  of  Man.' 

*In  right  of  a  woman,'  said  the  duke;  'but,  in  troth, 
my  godly  dame  owes  me  some  advantage  for  having 
lived  the  first  year  of  our  marriage  with  her  and  old  Black 
Tom,  her  grim,  fighting,  Puritanic  father.  A  man  might 
as  well  have  married  the  devil's  daughter,  and  set  up 
housekeeping  with  his  father-in-law.'  ^ 

*I  understand  you  are  willing,  then,  to  join  your 
interest  for  a  heave  at  the  house  of  Derby,  my  Lord 
Duke?' 

'As  they  are  imlawfully  possessed  of  my  wife's  king- 
dom, they  certainly  can  expect  no  favour  at  my  hand. 
But  thou  knowest  there  is  an  interest  at  Whitehall  pre- 
dominant over  mine.' 

-  'That  is  only  by  your  Grace's  sufferance,'  said  Chris- 
tian. 

'No  —  no;  I  tell  thee  a  hundred  times  no,'  said  the 
duke,  rousing  himself  to  anger  at  the  recollection.  'I 
tell  thee  that  base  courtesan,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth, 
hath  impudently  set  herself  to  thwart  and  contradict  me; 
and  Charles  has  given  me  both  cloudy  looks  and  hard 
words  before  the  court.  I  would  he  could  but  guess  what 
*  See  Note  7. 
IIO 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

is  the  offence  between  her  and  me !  I  would  he  but  knew 
that !  But  I  will  have  her  plumes  plucked,  or  my  name 
is  not  Villiers.  A  worthless  French  fille-de-joie  to  brave 
me  thus!  Christian,  thou  art  right:  there  is  no  passion  so 
spirit-stirring  as  revenge.  I  will  patronise  the  Plot,  if  it 
be  but  to  spite  her,  and  make  it  impossible  for  the  King 
to  uphold  her.' 

As  the  duke  spoke,  he  gradually  wrought  himself  into 
a  passion,  and  traversed  the  apartment  with  as  much 
vehemence  as  if  the  only  object  he  had  on  earth  was  to 
deprive  the  duchess  of  her  power  and  favour  with  the 
King.  Christian  smiled  internally  to  see  him  approach- 
ing the  state  of  mind  in  which  he  was  most  easily  worked 
upon,  and  judiciously  kept  silence,  until  the  duke  called 
out  to  him  in  a  pet, '  Well,  Sir  Oracle,  you  that  have  laid 
so  many  schemes  to  supplant  this  she-wolf  of  Gaul, 
where  are  all  your  contrivances  now?  Where  is  the  ex- 
quisite beauty  who  was  to  catch  the  sovereign's  eye  at 
the  first  glance?  Chiffinch,  hath  he  seen  her?  and  what 
does  he  say,  that  exquisite  critic  in  beauty  and  blanc- 
mange, women  and  wine? ' 

*He  has  seen  and  approves,  but  has  not  yet  heard  her; 
and  her  speech  answers  to  all  the  rest.  We  came  here 
yesterday;  and  to-day  I  intend  to  introduce  Chiffinch 
to  her,  the  instant  he  arrives  from  the  country;  and 
I  expect  him  every  hour.  I  am  but  afraid  of  the  damsel's 
peevish  virtue,  for  she  hath  been  brought  up  after  the 
fashion  of  our  grandmothers;  our  mothers  had  better 
sense.' 

'What!  so  fair,  so  young,  so  quick-witted,  and  so 
difficult?'  said  the  duke.  'By  your  leave,  you  shall  in- 
troduce me  as  well  as  Chiffinch.' 

Ill 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

*That  your  Grace  may  cure  her  of  her  intractable 
modesty?'  said  Christian. 

'  Why,'  replied  the  duke, '  it  will  but  teach  her  to  stand 
in  her  own  light.  Kings  do  not  love  to  court  and  sue; 
they  should  have  their  game  run  down  for  them.' 

'Under  your  Grace's  favour,'  said  Christian,  'this 
cannot  be.  Non  omnibus  dormio  —  your  Grace  knows 
the  classic  allusion.  If  this  maiden  become  a  prince's 
favourite,  rank  gilds  the  shame  and  the  sin.  But  to  any 
under  Majesty  she  must  not  vail  topsail.' 

'Why,  thou  suspicious  fool,  I  was  but  in  jest,'  said  the 
duke.  'Do  you  think  I  would  interfere  to  spoil  a  plan  so 
much  to  my  own  advantage  as  that  which  you  have  laid 
before  me? ' 

Christian  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  'My  lord,'  he 
said,  'I  know  your  Grace  as  well,  or  better  perhaps, 
than  you  know  yourself.  To  spoil  a  well-concerted  in- 
trigue by  some  cross  stroke  of  your  own  would  give  you 
more  pleasure  than  to  bring  it  to  a  successful  termina- 
tion according  to  the  plans  of  others.  But  Shaftesbury, 
and  all  concerned,  have  determined  that  our  scheme 
shall  at  least  have  fair  play.  We  reckon,  therefore,  on 
your  help;  and  —  forgive  me  when  I  say  so  —  we  will 
not  permit  ourselves  to  be  impeded  by  your  levity  and 
fickleness  of  purpose.' 

'Who?  /  light  and  fickle  of  purpose?'  said  the  duke. 
*  You  see  me  here  as  resolved  as  any  of  you  to  dispossess 
the  mistress  and  to  carry  on  the  Plot;  these  are  the  only 
two  things  I  live  for  in  this  world.  No  one  can  play  the 
man  of  business  like  me  when  I  please,  to  the  very  filing 
and  labelling  of  my  letters.  I  am  regular  as  a  scrivener.' 

'You  have  Chiffinch's  letter  from  the  country;  he  told 

112 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

me  he  had  written  to  you  about  some  passages  betwixt 
him  and  the  young  Lord  Saville.' 

'He  did  so  —  he  did  so/  said  the  duke,  looking  among 
his  letters;  'but  I  see  not  his  letter  just  now.  I  scarcely 
noted  the  contents  —  I  was  busy  when  it  came;  but  I 
have  it  safely.' 

'You  should  have  acted  on  it/  answered  Christian. 
'The  fool  suffered  himself  to  be  choused  out  of  his  secret, 
and  prayed  you  to  see  that  my  lord's  messenger  got  not 
to  the  Duchess  with  some  despatches  which  he  sent  up 
from  Derbyshire,  betraying  our  mystery.' 

The  duke  was  now  alarmed,  and  rang  the  bell  hastily. 
Jerningham  appeared.  'Where  is  the  letter  I  had  from 
Master  Chiffinch  some  hours  since?' 

'  If  it  be  not  amongst  those  your  Grace  has  before  you, 
I  know  nothing  of  it/  said  Jerningham.  'I  saw  none 
such  arrive.' 

'You  lie,  you  rascal,'  said  Buckingham;  'have  you  a 
right  to  remember  better  than  I  do?' 

'If  your  Grace  will  forgive  me  reminding  you,  you 
have  scarce  opened  a  letter  this  week,'  said  his  gentle- 
man. 

'Did  you  ever  hear  such  a  provoking  rascal!'  said  the 
duke.  'He  might  be  a  witness  in  the  Plot.  He  has 
knocked  my  character  for  regularity  entirely  on  the  head 
with  his  damned  counter-evidence.' 

'Your  Grace's  talent  and  capacity  will  at  least  remain 
unimpeached,'  said  Christian;  'and  it  is  those  that  must 
serve  yourself  and  your  friends.  If  I  might  advise,  you 
will  hasten  to  court,  and  lay  some  foundation  for  the  im- 
pression we  wish  to  make.  If  your  Grace  can  take  the 
first  word,,  and  throw  out  a  hint  to  cross-bite  Saville,  it 

88  113 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

will  be  well.  But  above  all,  keep  the  King's  ear  em- 
ployed, which  no  one  can  do  so  well  as  you.  Leave 
Chiffinch  to  fill  his  heart  with  a  proper  object.  Another 
thing  is,  there  is  a  blockhead  of  an  old  Cavalier,  who 
must  needs  be  a  bustler  in  the  Countess  of  Derby's  be- 
half; he  is  fast  in  hold,  with  the  whole  tribe  of  witnesses 
at  his  haunches.' 

'Nay,  then,  take  him,  Topham.' 

'Topham  has  taken  him  already,  my  lord,'  said 
Christian;  'and  there  is,  besides,  a  young  gallant,  a  son 
of  the  said  knight,  who  was  bred  in  the  household  of  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  and  who  has  brought  letters  from 
her  to  the  Provincial  of  the  Jesuits  and  others  in  Lon- 
don.' 

'What  are  their  names?'  said  the  duke,  drily. 

*  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  Martindale  Castle,  in  Derby- 
shire, and  his  son  Juhan.' 

'What!  Peveril  of  the  Peak?'  said  the  duke  —  'a 
stout  old  Cavalier  as  ever  swore  an  oath.  A  Worcester 
man,  too,  and,  in  truth,  a  man  of  all  work,  when  blows 
were  going.  I  will  not  consent  to  his  ruin.  Christian. 
These  fellows  must  be  flogged  oJBf  such  false  scents; 
flogged  in  every  sense,  they  must,  and  will  be,  when  the 
nation  comes  to  its  eyesight  again.' 

'It  is  of  more  than  the  last  importance,  in  the  mean- 
time, to  the  furtherance  of  our  plan,'  said  Christian, 
'  that  your  Grace  should  stand  for  a  space  between  them 
and  the  King's  favour.  The  youth  hath  influence  with 
the  maiden,  which  we  should  find  scarce  favourable  to 
our  views;  besides,  her  father  holds  him  as  high  as  he 
can  any  one  who  is  no  such  Puritanic  fool  as  himself.' 

'Well,  most  Christian  Christian,'  said  the  duke,  *I 
114 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

have  heard  your  commands  at  length.  I  will  endeavour 
to  stop  the  earths  under  the  throne,  that  neither  the  lord, 
knight,  nor  squire  in  question  shall  find  it  possible  to 
burrow  there.  For  the  fair  one,  I  must  leave  Chifiinch 
and  you  to  manage  her  introduction  to  her  high  des- 
tinies, since  I  am  not  to  be  trusted.  Adieu,  most 
Christian  Christian.' 

He  fixed  his  eyes  on  him,  and  then  exclaimed,  as  he 
shut  the  door  of  the  apartment  —  *  Most  profligate  and 
damnable  villain!  And  what  provokes  me  most  of  all 
is  the  knave's  composed  insolence.  "Your  Grace  will 
do  this"  and  "Your  Grace  will  condescend  to  do  that." 
A  pretty  puppet  I  should  be,  to  play  the  second  part, 
or  rather  the  third,  in  such  a  scheme!  No,  they  shall  all 
walk  according  to  my  purpose,  or  I  will  cross  them.  I  will 
find  this  girl  out  in  spite  of  them,  and  Judge  if  their 
scheme  is  likely  to  be  successful.  If  so,  she  shall  be  mine 
■ —  mine  entirely,  before  she  becomes  the  King's;  and  I 
will  command  her  who  is  to  guide  Charles.  Jerningham  ^ 
(his  gentleman  entered),  cause  Christian  to  be  dogged 
wherever  he  goes  for  the  next  four-and-twenty  hours, 
and  find  out  where  he  visits  a  female  newly  come  to 
town.  You  smile,  you  knave? ' 

*I  did  but  suspect  a  fresh  rival  to  Araminta  and  the 
little  coimtess,'  said  Jerningham. 

'Away  to  your  business,  knave,'  said  the  duke,  'and 
let  me  think  of  mine.  To  subdue  a  Puritan  in  esse,  a 
king's  favourite  in  posse  —  the  very  muster  of  western 
beauties  —  that  is  point  first.  The  impudence  of  this 
Manx  mongrel  to  be  corrected  —  the  pride  of  Madame 
la  Duchesse  to  be  pulled  down  —  an  important  state 

1  See  Note  8. 
"5 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

intrigue  to  be  furthered,  or  bafl3ed,  as  circumstances 
render  most  to  my  own  honour  and  glory  —  I  wished 
for  business  but  now,  and  I  have  got  enough  of  it.  But 
Buckingham  will  keep  his  own  steerage-way  through 
shoal  and  through  weather.' 


CHAPTER  XXrX 

Mark  you  this,  Bassanio  — 
The  devfl  can  quote  Scripture  for  his  purpose. 

Merchant  of  Venice, 

After  leaving  the  proud  mansion  of  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, Christian,  full  of  the  deep  and  treacherous 
schemes  which  he  meditated,  hastened  to  the  city,  where, 
in  a  decent  inn,  kept  by  a  person  of  his  own  persuasion, 
he  had  been  unexpectedly  summoned  to  meet  with 
Ralph  Bridgenorth  of  Moultrassie.  He  was  not  disap- 
pointed :  the  major  had  arrived  that  morning,  and  anx- 
iously expected  him .  The  usual  gloom  of  his  countenance 
was  darkened  into  a  yet  deeper  shade  of  anxiety,  which 
was  scarcely  relieved  even  while,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry 
after  his  daughter,  Christian  gave  the  most  favoura- 
ble account  of  her  health  and  spirits,  naturally  and  un- 
affectedly intermingled  with  such  praises  of  her  beauty 
and  her  disposition  as  were  likely  to  be  most  grateful 
to  a  father's  ear. 

But  Christian  had  too  much  cunning  to  expatiate  on 
this  theme,  however  soothing.  He  stopped  short  exactly 
at  the  point  where,  as  an  affectionate  relative,  he  might 
be  supposed  to  have  said  enough.  'The  lady,'  he  said; 
'with  whom  he  had  placed  Alice  was  delighted  with  her 
aspect  and  manners,  and  undertook  to  be  responsible 
for  her  health  and  happiness.  He  had  not,'  he  said, 
'deserved  so  little  confidence  at  the  hand  of  his  brother 
Bridgenorth,  as  that  the  major  should,  contrary  to  his 

117 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'purpose  and  to  the  plan  which  they  had  adjusted 
together,  have  hurried  up  from  the  country,  as  if 
his  own  presence  were  necessary  for  Alice's  protec- 
tion.' 

'Brother  Christian,'  said  Bridgenorth  in  reply,  'I 
must  see  my  child  —  I  must  see  this  person  with  whom 
she  is  entrusted.' 

*  To  what  purpose? '  answered  Christian.  *  Have  you 
not  often  confessed  that  the  over  excess  of  the  carnal 
affection  which  you  have  entertained  for  your  daughter 
hath  been  a  snare  to  you?  Have  you  not,  more  than 
once,  been  on  the  point  of  resigning  those  great  designs 
which  should  place  righteousness  as  a  counsellor  beside 
the  throne,  because  you  desired  to  gratify  your  daughter's 
girHsh  passion  for  this  descendant  of  your  old  persecutor 
• —  this  Julian  Peveril? ' 

*I  own  it,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'and  worlds  would  I  have 
given,  and  would  yet  give,  to  clasp  that  youth  to  my 
bosom  and  call  him  my  son.  The  spirit  of  his  mother 
looks  from  his  eye,  and  his  stately  step  is  as  that  of  his 
father,  when  he  daily  spoke  comfort  to  me  in  my  distress, 
and  said,  "The  child  Hveth.'" 

'But  the  youth  walks,'  said  Christian,  'after  his  own 
lights,  and  mistakes  the  meteor  of  the  marsh  for  the 
Polar  star.  Ralph  Bridgenorth,  I  will  speak  to  thee  in 
friendly  sincerity.  Thou  must  not  think  to  serve  both 
the  good  cause  and  Baal.  Obey,  if  thou  wilt,  thine  own 
carnal  affections:  summon  this  Julian  Peveril  to  thy 
house,  and  let  him  wed  thy  daughter;  but  mark  the 
reception  she  will  meet  with  from  the  proud  old  knight, 
whose  spirit  is  now,  even  now,  as  little  broken  with  his 
chains  as  after  the  sword  of  the  saints  had  prevailed  at 

ii8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Worcester.  Thou  wilt  see  tjiy  daughter  spurned  from 
his  feet  like  an  outcast.' 

'Christian/  said  Bridgenorth,  interrupting  him,  'thou 
dost  urge  me  hard;  but  thou  dost  it  in  love,  my  brother, 
and  I  forgive  thee.  Alice  shall  never  be  spurned.  But 
this  friend  of  thine  —  this  lady  —  thou  art  my  child's 
uncle,  and,  after  me,  thou  art  next  to  her  in  love  and 
affection  —  still,  thou  art  not  her  father  —  hast  not  her 
father's  fears  —  art  thou  sure  of  the  character  of  this 
woman  to  whom  my  child  is  entrusted?' 

'Am  I  sure  of  my  own?  Am  I  sure  that  my  name  is 
Christian,  yours  Bridgenorth?  Is  it  a  thing  I  am  likely 
to  be  insecure  in?  Have  I  not  dwelt  for  many  years  in 
this  city?  Do  I  not  know  this  court?  And  am  I  likely 
to  be  imposed  upon?  For  I  will  not  think  you  can  fear 
my  imposing  upon  you.' 

'Thou  art  my  brother,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'the  blood 
and  bone  of  my  departed  saint;  and  I  am  determined 
that  I  will  trust  thee  in  this  matter.' 

'Thou  dost  well,'  said  Christian;  'and  who  knows 
what  reward  may  be  in  store  for  thee?  I  cannot  look 
upon  Ahce  but  it  is  strongly  borne  in  on  my  mind  that 
there  will  be  work  for  a  creature  so  excellent  beyond  ordi- 
nary women.  Courageous  Judith  freed  Bethulia  by  her 
valour,  and  the  comely  features  of  Esther  made  her  a 
safeguard  and  a  defence  to  her  people  in  the  land  of  cap- 
tivity, when  she  found  favour  in  the  sight  of  King 
Ahasuerus.' 

'Be  it  with  her  as  Heaven  wills,'  said  Bridgenorth; 
'and  now  tell  me  what  progress  there  is  in  the  great 
work.' 

'The  people  are  weary  of  the  iniquity  of  this  court,' 

119 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

said  Christian;  'and  if  this  man  will  continue  to  reign, 
it  must  be  by  calling  to  his  councils  men  of  another 
stamp.  The  alarm  excited  by  the  damnable  practices  of 
the  Papists  has  called  up  men's  souls,  and  awakened 
their  eyes,  to  the  dangers  of  their  state.  He  himself  — 
for  he  will  give  up  brother  and  wife  to  save  himself  — 
is  not  averse  to  a  change  of  measures;  and  though  we 
cannot  at  first  see  the  court  purged  as  with  a  winnowing 
fan,  yet  there  will  be  enough  of  the  good  to  control  the 
bad  —  enough  of  the  sober  party  to  compel  the  grant  of 
that  universal  toleration  for  which  we  have  sighed  so 
long,  as  a  maiden  for  her  beloved.  Time  and  opportu- 
nity will  lead  the  way  to  more  thorough  reformation; 
and  that  will  be  done  without  stroke  of  sword  which  our 
friends  failed  to  establish  on  a  sure  fovmdation,  even 
when  their  victorious  blades  were  in  their  hands.' 

'May  God  grant  it!'  said  Bridgenorth;  'for  I  fear  me 
I  should  scruple  to  do  aught  which  should  once  more 
unsheath  the  civil  sword ;  but  welcome  all  that  comes  in 
a  peaceful  and  parHamentary  way.' 

'Ay,'  said  Christian,  'and  which  will  bring  with  it  the 
bitter  amends  which  our  enemies  have  so  long  merited 
at  our  hands.  How  long  hath  our  brother's  blood  cried 
for  vengeance  from  the  altar!  Now  shall  that  cruel 
Frenchwoman  find  that  neither  lapse  of  years,  nor  her 
powerful  friends,  nor  the  name  of  Stanley,  nor  the  sover- 
eignty of  Man,  shall  stop  the  stern  course  of  the  pursuer 
of  blood.  Her  name  shall  be  struck  from  the  noble,  and 
her  heritage  shall  another  take.' 

'Nay,  but,  brother  Christian,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'art 
thou  not  over  eager  in  pursuing  this  thing?  It  is  thy 
duty  as  a  Christian  to  forgive  thine  enemies.' 

I20 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'  Ay,  but  not  the  enemies  of  Heaven  —  not  those  who 
shed  the  blood  of  the  saints,'  said  Christian,  his  eyes 
kindling  with  that  vehement  and  fiery  expression  which 
at  times  gave  to  his  iminteresting  countenance  the  only 
character  of  passion  which  it  ever  exhibited.  'No, 
Bridgenorth,'  he  continued,  *I  esteem  this  purpose  of 
revenge  holy  —  I  account  it  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  for 
what  may  have  been  evil  in  my  life.  I  have  submitted 
to  be  spurned  by  the  haughty  —  I  have  humbled  my- 
self to  be  as  a  servant;  but  in  my  breast  was  the  proud 
thought,  "I,  who  do  this,  do  it  that  I  may  avenge  my 
brother's  blood.'" 

'Still,  my  brother,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'although  I  par- 
ticipate thy  purpose,  and  have  aided  thee  against  this 
Moabitish  woman,  I  cannot  but  think  thy  revenge  is 
more  after  the  law  of  Moses  than  after  the  law  of  love.' 

'This  comes  well  from  thee,  Ralph  Bridgenorth,' 
answered  Christian  —  '  from  thee,  who  hast  just  smiled 
over  the  downfall  of  thine  own  enemy ! ' 

'If  you  mean  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,'  said  Bridgenorth, 
'I  smile  not  on  his  ruin.  It  is  well  he  is  abased;  but  if  it 
lies  with  me,  I  may  humble  his  pride,  but  will  never  ruin 
his  house.' 

'You  know  your  purpose  best,'  said  Christian,  'and 
I  do  justice,  brother  Bridgenorth,  to  the  purity  of  your 
principles;  but  men  who  see  with  but  worldly  eyes  would 
discern  little  purpose  of  mercy  in  the  strict  magistrate 
and  severe  creditor,  and  such  have  you  been  to  Peveril.' 

'And,  brother  Christian,'  said  Bridgenorth,  his  colour 
rising  as  he  spoke,  'neither  do  I  doubt  your  purpose,  nor 
deny  the  surprising  address  with  which  you  have  pro- 
cured such  perfect  information  concerning  the  purposes 

121 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  yonder  woman  of  Ammon ;  but  it  is  free  to  me  to  think 
that,  in  your  intercourse  with  the  court  and  with  cour- 
tiers, you  may,  in  your  carnal  and  worldly  poHcy,  sink 
the  value  of  those  spiritual  gifts  for  which  you  were  once 
so  much  celebrated  among  the  brethren.' 

'Do  not  apprehend  it,'  said  Christian,  recovering  his 
temper,  which  had  been  a  Httle  ruffled  by  the  previous 
discussion.  '  Let  us  but  work  together  as  heretofore ;  and 
I  trust  each  of  us  shall  be  found  doing  the  work  of  a 
faithful  servant  to  that  good  old  cause  for  which  we  have 
heretofore  drawn  the  sword.' 

So  saying,  he  took  his  hat,  and  bidding  Bridgenorth 
farewell,  declared  his  intention  of  returning  in  the  even- 
ing. 

'Fare  thee  well!'  said  Bridgenorth;  'to  that  cause  wilt 
thou  find  me  ever  a  true  and  devoted  adherent.  I  will 
act  by  that  counsel  of  thine,  and  will  not  even  ask  thee 
—  though  it  may  grieve  my  heart  as  a  parent  —  with 
whom,  or  where,  thou  hast  entrusted  my  child.  I  will 
try  to  cut  off  and  cast  from  me  even  my  right  hand  and 
my  right  eye;  but  for  thee,  Christian,  if  thou  dost  deal 
otherwise  than  prudently  and  honestly  in  this  matter, 
it  is  what  God  and  man  will  require  at  thy  hand.' 

'Fear  not  me,'  said  Christian,  hastily,  and  left  the 
place,  agitated  by  reflections  of  no  pleasant  kind. 

'I  ought  to  have  persuaded  him  to  return,'  he  said, 
as  he  stepped  out  into  the  street.  'Even  his  hovering 
in  this  neighbourhood  may  spoil  the  plan  on  which  de- 
pends the  rise  of  my  fortunes  —  ay,  and  of  his  child's. 
Will  men  say  I  have  ruined  her,  when  I  shall  have  raised 
her  to  the  dazzling  height  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth, 
and  perhaps  made  her  mother  to  a  long  line  of  princes? 

122 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Chiflfinch  hath  vouched  for  opportunity;  and  the  volup- 
tuary's fortune  depends  on  his  gratifying  the  taste  of 
his  master  for  variety.  If  she  makes  an  impression,  it 
must  be  a  deep  one;  and  once  seated  in  his  affections,  I 
fear  not  her  being  supplanted.  What  will  her  father  say? 
WiU  he,  Hke  a  prudent  man,  put  his  shame  in  his  pocket, 
because  it  is  well  gilded?  or  will  he  think  it  fitting  to  make 
a  display  of  moral  wrath  and  parental  frenzy?  I  fear 
the  latter.  He  has  ever  kept  too  strict  a  course  to  admit 
his  conniving  at  such  hcense.  But  what  will  his  anger 
avail?  I  need  not  be  seen  in  the  matter;  those  who  are 
will  care  little  for  the  resentment  of  a  country  Puritan. 
And,  after  all,  what  I  am  labouring  to  bring  about  is 
best  for  himself,  the  wench,  and,  above  all,  for  me, 
Edward  Christian.' 

With  such  base  opiates  did  this  unhappy  wretch 
stifle  his  own  conscience,  while  anticipating  the  disgrace 
of  his  friend's  family,  and  the  ruin  of  a  near  relative, 
committed  in  confidence  to  his  charge.  The  character 
of  this  man  was  of  no  common  description,  nor  was  it  by 
an  ordinary  road  that  he  had  arrived  at  the  present 
climax  of  unfeeling  and  infamous  selfishness. 

Edward  Christian,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  was  the 
brother  of  that  Wilham  Christian  who  was  the  principal 
instrument  in  deHvering  up  the  Island  of  Man  to  the 
Republic,  and  who  became  the  victim  of  the  Countess  of 
Derby's  revenge  on  that  account.  Both  had  been  edu- 
cated as  Puritans,  but  William  was  a  soldier,  which  some- 
what modified  the  strictness  of  his  religious  opinions; 
Edward,  a  civiHan,  seemed  to  entertain  these  principles 
in  the  utmost  rigour.  But  it  was  only  seeming.  The 
exactness  of  deportment  which  procured  him  great 

123 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

honour  and  influence  among  the  'sober  party,'  as  they 
were  wont  to  term  themselves,  covered  a  voluptuous 
disposition,  the  gratification  of  which  was  sweet  to  him 
as  stolen  waters,  and  pleasant  as  bread  eaten  in  secret. 
While,  therefore,  his  seeming  godliness  brought  him 
worldly  gain,  his  secret  pleasures  compensated  for  his 
outward  austerity;  until  the  Restoration,  and  the  coun- 
tess's violent  proceedings  against  his  brother,  interrupted 
the  course  of  both.  He  then  fled  from  his  native  island, 
burning  with  the  desire  of  revenging  his  brother's  death 
— the  only  passion  foreign  to  his  own  gratification  which 
he  was  ever  known  to  cherish,  and  which  was  also  at 
least  partly  selfish,  since  it  concerned  the  restoration 
of  his  own  fortunes. 

He  foimd  easy  access  toVilliers,Duke  of  Buckingham, 
who,  in  right  of  his  duchess,  claimed  such  of  the  Derby 
estate  as  had  been  bestowed  by  the  ParHament  on  his 
celebrated  father-in-law.  Lord  Fairfax.  His  influence  at 
the  court  of  Charles,  where  a  jest  was  a  better  plea  than 
a  long  claim  of  faithful  service,  was  so  successfully  exerted 
as  to  contribute  greatly  to  the  depression  of  that  loyal 
and  ill-rewarded  family.  But  Buckingham  was  incapable, 
even  for  his  own  interest,  of  pursuing  the  steady  course 
which  Christian  suggested  to  him;  and  his  vacillation 
probably  saved  the  remnant  of  the  large  estates  of  the 
Earl  of  Derby. 

Meantime,  Christian  was  too  useful  a  follower  to  be 
dismissed.  From  Buckingham  and  others  of  that  stamp 
he  did  not  affect  to  conceal  the  laxity  of  his  morals ;  but, 
towards  the  numerous  and  powerful  party  to  which  he 
belonged,  he  was  able  to  disguise  them  by  a  seeming 
gravity  of  exterior,  which  he  never  laid  aside.    Indeed, 

124 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

so  wide  and  absolute  was  then  the  distinction  betwixt 
the  court  and  the  city,  that  a  man  might  have  for  some 
time  played  two  several  parts,  as  in  two  different  spheres, 
without  its  being  discovered  in  the  one  that  he  exhibited 
himself  in  a  different  hght  in  the  other.  Besides,  when 
a  man  of  talent  shows  himself  an  able  and  useful  parti- 
zan,  his  party  will  continue  to  protect  and  accredit  him, 
in  spite  of  conduct  the  most  contradictory  to  their  own 
principles.  Some  facts  are,  in  such  cases,  denied,  some 
are  glossed  over ;  and  party  zeal  is  permitted  to  cover  at 
least  as  many  defects  as  ever  doth  charity. 

Edward  Christian  had  often  need  of  the  partial  indul- 
gence of  his  friends;  but  he  experienced  it,  for  he  was 
eminently  useful.  Buckingham,  and  other  courtiers  of 
the  same  class,  however  dissolute  in  their  lives,  were 
desirous  of  keeping  some  connexion  with  the  Dissenting  or 
Puritanic  party,  as  it  was  termed ;  thereby  to  strengthen 
themselves  against  their  opponents  at  court.  In  such 
intrigues,  Christian  was  a  notable  agent;  and  at  one 
time  had  nearly  procured  an  absolute  union  between  a 
class  which  professed  the  most  rigid  principles  of  religion 
and  morality  and  the  latitudinarian  courtiers,  who  set 
all  principle  at  defiance. 

Amidst  the  vicissitudes  of  a  life  of  intrigue,  during 
which  Buckingham's  ambitious  schemes  and  his  own  re- 
peatedly sent  him  across  the  Atlantic,  it  was  Edward 
Christian's  boast  that  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  principal 
object  —  revenge  on  the  Countess  of  Derby.  He  main- 
tained a  close  and  intimate  correspondence  with  his  na- 
tive island,  so  as  to  be  perfectly  informed  of  whatever 
took  place  there;  and  he  stimulated,  on  every  favourable 
opportunity,  the  cupidity  of  Buckingham  to  possess  him- 

125 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

self  of  this  petty  kingdom,  by  procuring  the  forfeiture 
of  its  present  lord.  It  was  not  difficult  to  keep  his  pa- 
tron's wild  wishes  alive  on  this  topic,  for  his  own  mer- 
curial imagination  attached  particular  charms  to  the 
idea  of  becoming  a  sort  of  sovereign  even  in  this  little 
island;  and  he  was,  like  Catiline,  as  covetous  of  the  pro- 
perty of  others  as  he  was  profuse  of  his  own. 

But  it  was  not  until  the  pretended  discovery  of  the 
Papist  Plot  that  the  schemes  of  Christian  could  be 
brought  to  ripen ;  and  then,  so  odious  were  the  Catholics 
in  the  eyes  of  the  credulous  people  of  England,  that, 
upon  the  accusation  of  the  most  infamous  of  mankind  — 
common  informers,  the  scourings  of  jails,  and  the  refuse 
of  the  whipping-post  —  the  most  atrocious  charges 
against  persons  of  the  highest  rank  and  fairest  character 
were  readily  received  and  credited. 

This  was  a  period  which  Christian  did  not  fail  to  im- 
prove. He  drew  close  his  intimacy  with  Bridgenorth, 
which  had  indeed  never  been  interrupted,  and  readily 
engaged  him  in  his  schemes,  which,  in  the  eyes  of  his 
brother-in-law,  were  ahke  honourable  and  patriotic. 
But,  while  he  flattered  Bridgenorth  with  the  achieving 
a  complete  reformation  in  the  state,  checking  the  pro- 
fligacy of  the  court,  relieving  the  consciences  of  the  Dis- 
senters from  the  pressure  of  the  penal  laws,  amending, 
in  fine,  the  crying  grievances  of  the  time  —  while  he 
showed  him  also,  in  prospect,  revenge  upon  the  Count- 
ess of  Derby,  and  a  humbling  dispensation  on  the  house 
of  Peveril,  from  whom  Bridgenorth  had  suffered  such 
indignity.  Christian  did  not  neglect,  in  the  meanwhile, 
to  consider  how  he  could  best  benefit  himself  by  the 
confidence  reposed  in  him  by  his  unsuspicious  relation. 

126 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

The  extreme  beauty  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  the  great 
wealth  which  time  and  economy  had  accumulated  on 
her  father,  pointed  her  out  as  a  most  desirable  match  to 
repair  the  wasted  fortunes  of  some  of  the  followers  of 
the  court;  and  he  flattered  himself  that  he  could  con- 
duct such  a  negotiation  so  as  to  be  in  a  high  degree  con- 
ducive to  his  own  advantage.  He  found  there  would  be 
little  difficulty  in  prevailing  on  Major  Bridgenorth  to 
entrust  him  with  the  guardianship  of  his  daughter.  That 
unfortunate  gentleman  had  accustomed  himself,  from 
the  very  period  of  her  birth,  to  regard  the  presence  of 
his  child  as  a  worldly  indulgence  too  great  to  be  allowed 
to  him;  and  Christian  had  little  trouble  in  convincing 
him  that  the  strong  inclination  which  he  felt  to  bestow 
her  on  JuHan  Peveril,  provided  he  could  be  brought  over 
to  his  own  poHtical  opinions,  was  ablameable  compromise 
with  his  more  severe  principles.  Late  circumstances 
had  taught  him  the  incapacity  and  unfitness  of  Dame 
Debbitch  for  the  sole  charge  of  so  dear  a  pledge ;  and  he 
readily  and  thankfully  embraced  the  kind  offer  of  her 
maternal  uncle.  Christian,  to  place  Ahce  under  the  pro- 
tection of  a  lady  of  rank  in  London,  whilst  he  himself 
was  to  be  engaged  in  the  scenes  of  bustle  and  blood 
which,  in  common  with  all  good  Protestants,  he  ex- 
pected were  speedily  to  take  place  on  a  general  rising  of 
the  Papists,  unless  prevented  by  the  active  and  ener- 
getic measures  of  the  good  people  of  England.  He  even 
confessed  his  fears,  that  his  partial  regard  for  Alice's 
happiness  might  enervate  his  efforts  in  behalf  of  his 
country;  and  Christian  had  little  trouble  in  eliciting  from 
him  a  promise  that  he  would  forbear  to  inquire  after 
her  for  some  time. 

127 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Thus  certain  of  being  the  temporary  guardian  of  his 
niece  for  a  space  long  enough,  he  flattered  himself,  for 
the  execution  of  his  purpose,  Christian  endeavoured  to 
pave  the  way  by  consulting  Chifiinch,  whose  known 
skill  in  court  policy  qualified  him  best  as  an  adviser  on 
this  occasion.  But  this  worthy  person,  being,  in  fact, 
a  purveyor  for  his  Majesty's  pleasures,  and  on  that  ac- 
count high  in  his  good  graces,  thought  it  fell  within  the 
line  of  his  duty  to  suggest  another  scheme  than  that  on 
which  Christian  consulted  him.  A  woman  of  such  beauty 
as  Alice  was  described  he  deemed  more  worthy  to  be  a 
partaker  of  the  affections  of  the  merry  monarch,  whose 
taste  in  female  beauty  was  so  exquisite,  than  to  be  made 
the  wife  of  some  worn-out  prodigal  of  quality.  And  then, 
doing  perfect  justice  to  his  own  character,  he  felt  it 
would  not  be  one  whit  impaired,  while  his  fortune  would 
be,  in  every  respect,  greatly  amended,  if,  after  sharing 
the  short  reign  of  the  Gwyns,  the  Davises,  the  Robertses, 
and  so  forth,  Alice  Bridgenorth  should  retire  from  the 
state  of  a  royal  favourite  into  the  humble  condition  of 
Mrs.  Chiffinch. 

After  cautiously  sounding  Christian,  and  finding  that 
the  near  prospect  of  interest  to  himself  effectually  pre- 
vented his  starting  at  this  iniquitous  scheme,  Chiifinch 
detailed  it  to  him  fully,  carefully  keeping  the  final  ter- 
mination out  of  sight,  and  talking  of  the  favour  to  be 
acquired  by  the  fair  Alice  as  no  passing  caprice,  but  the 
commencement  of  a  reign  as  long  and  absolute  as  that 
of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  of  whose  avarice  and 
domineering  temper  Charles  was  now  imderstood  to  be 
much  tired,  though  the  force  of  habit  rendered  him 
imequal  to  free  himself  of  her  yoke. 

128 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Thus  chalked  out,  the  scene  prepared  was  no  longer 
the  scheme  of  a  court  pander,  and  a  villainous  resolution 
for  the  ruin  of  an  innocent  girl,  but  became  a  state  in- 
trigue, for  the  removal  of  an  obnoxious  favourite,  and 
the  subsequent  change  of  the  King's  sentiments  upon 
various  material  points,  in  which  he  was  at  present  in- 
fluenced by  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  In  this  light 
it  was  exhibited  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who,  either 
to  sustain  his  character  for  daring  gallantry  or  in  order 
to  gratify  some  capricious  fancy,  had  at  one  time  made 
love  to  the  reigning  favourite,  and  experienced  a  re- 
pulse which  he  had  never  forgiven. 

But  one  scheme  was  too  little  to  occupy  the  active  and 
enterprising  spirit  of  the  duke.  An  appendix  of  the  Pop- 
ish Plot  was  easily  so  contrived  as  to  involve  the  Count- 
ess of  Derby,  who,  from  character  and  religion,  was  pre- 
cisely the  person  whom  the  credulous  part  of  the  public 
were  inclined  to  suppose  the  likely  accomplice  of  such 
a  conspiracy.  Christian  and  Bridgenorth  undertook  the 
perilous  commission  of  attacking  her  even  in  her  own 
little  kingdom  of  Man,  and  had  commissions  for  this 
purpose,  which  were  only  to  be  produced  in  case  of  their 
scheme  taking  effect. 

It  miscarried,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  from  the  count- 
ess's alert  preparations  for  defence;  and  neither  Chris- 
tian nor  Bridgenorth  held  it  sound  policy  to  practise 
openly,  even  under  Parliamentary  authority,  against  a 
lady  so  little  liable  to  hesitate  upon  the  measures  most 
likely  to  secure  her  feudal  sovereignty;  wisely  consider- 
ing that  even  the  omnipotence,  as  it  has  been  somewhat 
too  largely  styled,  of  Parliament  might  fail  to  relieve 
them  from  the  personal  consequences  of  a  failure. 

28  129 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

On  the  continent  of  Britain,  however,  no  opposition 
was  to  be  feared;  and  so  well  was  Christian  acquainted 
with  all  the  motions  in  the  interior  of  the  countess's 
little  court,  or  household,  that  Peveril  would  have  been 
arrested  the  instant  he  set  foot  on  shore,  but  for  the  gale 
of  wind,  which  obliged  the  vessel  in  which  he  was  a 
passenger  to  run  for  Liverpool.  Here  Christian,  under 
the  name  of  Ganlesse,  unexpectedly  met  with  him,  and 
preserved  him  from  the  fangs  of  the  well-breathed 
witnesses  of  the  Plot,  with  the  purpose  of  securing  his 
despatches,  or,  if  necessary,  his  person  also,  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  place  him  at  his  own  discretion  —  a  nar- 
row and  perilous  game,  which  he  thought  it  better,  how- 
ever, to  undertake  than  to  permit  these  subordinate 
agents,  who  were  always  ready  to  mutiny  against  all  in 
league  with  them,  to  obtain  the  credit  which  they  must 
have  done  by  the  seizure  of  the  Countess  of  Derby's 
papers.  It  was,  besides,  essential  to  Buckingham's 
schemes  that  these  should  not  pass  into  the  hands  of 
a  pubUc  officer  like  Topham,  who,  however  pompous 
and  stupid,  was  upright  and  well-intentioned,  imtil 
they  had  undergone  the  revisal  of  a  private  commit 
tee,  where  something  might  have  probably  been  sup- 
pressed, even  supposing  that  nothing  had  been  added. 
In  short.  Christian,  in  carrying  on  his  own  separate  and 
peculiar  intrigue,  by  the  agency  of  the  Great  Popish 
Plot,  as  it  was  called,  acted  just  like  an  engineer,  who 
derives  the  principle  of  motion  which  turns  his  machin- 
ery by  means  of  a  steam-engine,  or  large  water-wheel, 
constructed  to  drive  a  separate  and  larger  engine.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  was  determined  that,  while  he  took  all  the 
advantage  he  could  from  their  supposed  discoveries,  no 

130 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

one  should  be  admitted  to  tamper  or  interfere  with  his 
own  plans  of  profit  and  revenge. 

Chiffinch,  who,  desirous  of  satisfying  himself  with  his 
own  eyes  of  that  excellent  beauty  which  had  been  so 
highly  extolled,  had  gone  down  to  Derbyshire  on  pur- 
pose, was  infinitely  delighted  when,  during  the  course 
of  a  two  hours'  sermon  at  the  dissenting  chapel  in  Liver- 
pool, which  afforded  him  ample  leisure  for  a  deliberate 
survey,  he  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  he  had  never 
seen  a  form  or  face  more  captivating.  His  eyes  having 
confirmed  what  was  told  him,  he  hurried  back  to  the 
little  inn  which  formed  their  place  of  rendezvous,  and 
there  awaited  Christian  and  his  niece,  with  a  degree  of 
confidence  in  the  success  of  their  project  which  he  had 
not  before  entertained ;  and  with  an  apparatus  of  luxury 
calculated,  as  he  thought,  to  make  a  favourable  impres- 
sion on  the  mind  of  a  rustic  girl.  He  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised when,  instead  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  to  whom  he 
expected  that  night  to  have  been  introduced,  he  found 
that  Christian  was  accompanied  by  JuHan  Peveril.  It 
was  indeed  a  severe  disappointment,  for  he  had  pre- 
vailed on  his  own  indolence  to  venture  thus  far  from  the 
court,  in  order  that  he  might  judge  with  his  own  para- 
mount taste,  whether  Alice  was  really  the  prodigy  which 
her  uncle's  praises  had  bespoken  her,  and,  as  such,  a 
victim  worthy  of  the  fate  to  which  she  was  destined. 

A  few  words  betwixt  the  worthy  confederates  deter- 
mined them  on  the  plan  of  stripping  Peveril  of  the 
countess's  despatches,  Chifl&nch  absolutely  refusing  to 
take  any  share  in  arresting  him,  as  a  matter  of  which 
his  master's  approbation  might  be  very  uncertain. 

Christian  had  also  his  own  reasons  for  abstaining 

131 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

from  so  decisive  a  step.  It  was  by  no  means  likely  to 
be  agreeable  to  Bridgenorth,  whom  it  was  necessary  to 
keep  in  good-hmnour;  it  was  not  necessary,  for  the 
countess's  despatches  were  of  far  more  importance  than 
the  person  of  Julian.  Lastly,  it  was  superfluous  in  this 
respect  also,  that  Julian  was  on  the  road  to  his  father's 
castle,  where  it  was  likely  he  would  be  seized,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  along  with  the  other  suspicious  persons  who 
fell  under  Topham's  warrant  and  the  denvmciations  of 
his  infamous  companions.  He,  therefore,  far  from  using 
any  violence  to  Peveril,  assumed  towards  him  such  a 
friendly  tone  as  might  seem  to  warn  him  against  receiv- 
ing damage  from  others,  and  vindicate  himself  from 
having  had  any  share  in  depriving  him  of  his  charge. 
This  last  manoeuvre  was  achieved  by  an  infusion  of  a 
strong  narcotic  into  Julian's  wine,  under  the  influence 
of  which  he  slumbered  so  soundly  that  the  confederates 
were  easily  able  to  accomplish  their  inhospitable  pur- 
pose. 

The  events  of  the  succeeding  days  are  already  known 
to  the  reader.  Chifi&nch  set  forward  to  return  to  London 
with  the  packet,  which  it  was  desirable  should  be  in 
Buckingham's  hands  as  soon  as  possible;  while  Christian 
went  to  Moultrassie,  to  receive  Alice  from  her  father  and 
convey  her  safely  to  London  —  his  accomplice  agreeing 
to  defer  his  curiosity  to  see  more  of  her  until  they  should 
have  arrived  in  that  city. 

Before  parting  with  Bridgenorth,  Christian  had  ex- 
erted his  utmost  address  to  prevail  on  him  to  remain 
at  Moultrassie :  he  had  even  overstepped  the  bounds  of 
prudence,  and,  by  his  urgency,  awakened  some  suspi- 
cions of  an  indefinite  nature,  which  he  found  it  difficult 

132 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  allay.  Bridgenorth,  therefore,  followed  his  brother- 
in-law  to  London ;  and  the  reader  has  already  been  made 
acquainted  with  the  arts  which  Christian  used  to  prevent 
his  further  interference  with  the  destinies  of  his  daughter 
or  the  unhallowed  schemes  of  her  ill-chosen  guardian. 
Still  Christian,  as  he  strode  along  the  street  in  profound 
reflection,  saw  that  his  undertaking  was  attended  with 
a  thousand  perils;  and  the  drops  stood  like  beads  on  his 
brow  when  he  thought  of  the  presumptuous  levity  and 
fickle  temper  of  Buckingham  —  the  frivolity  and  in- 
temperance of  Chiffinch  —  the  suspicions  of  the  melan- 
choly and  bigoted,  yet  sagacious  and  honest,  Bridge- 
north.  'Had  I,'  he  thought,  'but  tools  fitted,  each  to 
their  portion  of  the  work,  how  easily  could  I  heave 
asunder  and  disjoint  the  strength  that  opposes  me !  But 
with  these  frail  and  insufficient  implements,  I  am  in 
daily,  hourly,  momentary  danger  that  one  lever  or  other 
gives  way,  and  that  the  whole  ruin  recoils  on  my  own 
head.  And  yet,  were  it  not  for  those  failings  I  complain 
of,  how  were  it  possible  for  me  to  have  acquired  that 
power  over  them  all  which  constitutes  them  my  passive 
tools,  even  when  they  seem  most  to  exert  their  own  free 
will?  Yes,  the  bigots  have  some  right  when  they  afiirm 
that  all  is  for  the  best.' 

It  may  seem  strange  that,  amidst  the  various  subjects 
of  Christian's  apprehension,  he  was  never  visited  by  any 
long  or  permanent  doubt  that  the  virtue  of  his  niece 
might  prove  the  shoal  on  which  his  voyage  should  be 
wrecked.  But  he  was  an  arrant  rogue,  as  well  as  a  har- 
dened libertine;  and,  in  both  characters,  a  professed  dis- 
beHever  in  the  virtue  of  the  fair  sex. 


CHAPTER  XXX 


As  for  John  Dryden's  Charles,  I  own  that  king 
Was  never  any  very  mighty  thing; 
And  yet  he  was  a  devilish  honest  fellow  — 
Enjoy 'd  his  friend  and  bottle,  and  got  mellow. 

Dr.  Wolcot. 


London,  the  grand  central  point  of  intrigues  of  every 
description,  had  now  attracted  within  its  dark  and  sha- 
dowy region  the  greater  number  of  the  personages  whom 
we  have  had  occasion  to  mention. 

Julian  Peveril,  amongst  others  of  the  dramatis  per- 
sonce,  had  arrived,  and  taken  up  his  abode  in  a  remote 
inn  in  the  suburbs.  His  business,  he  conceived,  was  to 
remain  incognito  until  he  should  have  communicated 
in  private  with  the  friends  who  were  most  likely  to  lend 
assistance  to  his  parents,  as  well  as  to  his  patroness,  in 
their  present  situation  of  doubt  and  danger.  Amongst 
these,  the  most  powerful  was  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  whose 
faithful  services,  high  rank,  and  acknowledged  worth 
and  virtue,  still  preserved  an  ascendency  in  that  very 
court  where,  in  general,  he  was  regarded  as  out  of  favour. 
Indeed,  so  much  consciousness  did  Charles  display  in 
his  demeanour  towards  that  celebrated  noble  and  serv- 
ant of  his  father,  that  Buckingham  once  took  the  free- 
dom to  ask  the  King,  whether  the  Duke  of  Ormond  had 
lost  his  Majesty's  favour  or  his  Majesty  the  duke's, 
since,  whenever  they  chanced  to  meet,  the  King  ap- 
peared the  more  embarrassed  of  the  two.  But  it  was  not 
Peveril 's  good  fortune  to  obtain  the  advice  or  counte- 

134 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

nance  of  this  distinguished  person.  His  Grace  of  Ormond 
was  not  at  that  time  in  London. 

The  letter  about  the  delivery  of  which  the  countess 
had  seemed  most  anxious  after  that  to  the  Duke  of  Or- 
mond was  addressed  to  Captain  Barstow  (a  Jesuit,  whose 
real  name  was  Fenwicke),  to  be  found,  or  at  least  to  be 
heard  of,  in  the  house  of  one  Martin  Christal  in  the 
Savoy.  To  this  place  hastened  Peveril,  upon  learning 
the  absence  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  He  was  not  igno- 
rant of  the  danger  which  he  personally  incurred  by  thus 
becoming  a  medium  of  communication  betwixt  a  Popish 
priest  and  a  suspected  Catholic.  But  when  he  undertook 
the  perilous  commission  of  his  patroness,  he  had  done  so 
frankly,  and  with  the  unreserved  resolution  of  serving 
her  in  the  manner  in  which  she  most  desired  her  affairs 
to  be  conducted.  Yet  he  could  not  forbear  some  secret 
apprehension  when  he  felt  himself  engaged  in  the  laby- 
rinth of  passages  and  galleries  which  led  to  different  ob- 
scure sets  of  apartments  in  the  ancient  building  termed 
the  Savoy. 

This  antiquated  and  almost  ruinous  pile  occupied  a 
part  of  the  site  of  the  public  offices  in  the  Strand  com- 
monly called  Somerset  House.  The  Savoy  had  been 
formerly  a  palace,  and  took  its  name  from  an  Earl  of 
Savoy,  by  whom  it  was  founded.  It  had  been  the  habi- 
tation of  John  of  Gaunt  and  various  persons  of  distinc- 
tion; had  become  a  convent,  an  hospital,  and  finally, 
in  Charles  II's  time,  a  waste  of  dilapidated  buildings 
and  ruinous  apartments,  inhabited  chiefly  by  those  who 
had  some  connexion  with,  or  dependence  upon,  the 
neighbouring  palace  of  Somerset  House,  which,  more  for- 
tunate than  the  Savoy,  had  still  retained  its  royal  title, 

^35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  was  the  abode  of  a  part  of  the  court,  and  occasion- 
ally of  the  King  himself,  who  had  apartments  there. 

It  was  not  without  several  inquiries,  and  more  than 
one  mistake,  that,  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  dusky  pas- 
sage, composed  of  boards  so  wasted  by  time  that  they 
threatened  to  give  way  under  his  feet,  Julian  at  length 
found  the  name  of  Martin  Christal,  broker  and  ap- 
praiser, upon  a  shattered  door.  He  was  about  to  knock, 
when  some  one  pulled  his  cloak;  and  looking  round,  to 
his  great  astonishment,  which  indeed  almost  amounted 
to  fear,  he  saw  the  little  mute  damsel,  who  had  accom- 
panied him  for  a  part  of  the  way  on  his  voyage  from 
the  Isle  of  Man.  '  Fenella ! '  he  exclaimed,  forgetting  that 
she  could  neither  hear  nor  reply  —  '  Fenella !  Can  this 
be  you? ' 

Fenella,  assuming  the  air  of  warning  and  authority 
which  she  had  heretofore  endeavoured  to  adopt  towards 
him,  interposed  betwixt  Julian  and  the  door  at  which  he 
was  about  to  knock,  pointed  with  her  finger  towards  it 
in  a  prohibiting  manner,  and  at  the  same  time  bent  her 
brows  and  shook  her  head  sternly. 

After  a  moment's  consideration,  JuHan  could  place 
but  one  interpretation  upon  Fenella's  appearance  and 
conduct,  and  that  was,  by  supposing  her  lady  had  come 
up  to  London,  and  had  dispatched  this  mute  attendant, 
as  a  confidential  person,  to  apprise  him  of  some  change 
of  her  intended  operations,  which  might  render  the  de- 
livery of  her  letters  to  Barstow,  alias  Fenwicke,  super- 
fluous, or  perhaps  dangerous.  He  made  signs  to  Fenella, 
demanding  to  know  whether  she  had  any  commission 
from  the  countess.  She  nodded.  'Had  she  any  letter?' 
he  continued,  by  the  same  mode  of  enquiry.  She  shook 

136 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

her  head  impatiently,  and,  walking  hastily  along  the 
passage,  made  a  signal  to  him  to  follow.  He  did  so,  hav- 
ing little  doubt  that  he  was  about  to  be  conducted  into 
the  countess's  presence;  but  his  surprise,  at  first  excited 
by  Fenella's  appearance,  was  increased  by  the  rapidity 
and  ease  with  which  she  seemed  to  track  the  dusky  and 
decayed  mazes  of  the  dilapidated  Savoy,  equal  to  that 
with  which  he  had  seen  her  formerly  lead  the  way 
through  the  gloomy  vaults  of  Castle  Rushin,  in  the  Isle 
of  Man. 

When  he  recollected,  however,  that  Fenella  had  ac- 
companied the  countess  on  a  long  visit  to  London,  it 
appeared  not  improbable  that  she  might  then  have 
acquired  this  local  knowledge  which  seemed  so  accurate. 
Many  foreigners,  dependent  on  the  Queen  or  Queen 
Dowager,  had  apartments  in  the  Savoy.  Many  Catholic 
priests  also  found  refuge  in  its  recesses,  under  various 
disguises,  and  in  defiance  of  the  severity  of  the  laws 
against  Popery.  What  was  more  likely  than  that  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  a  Catholic  and  a  Frenchwoman, 
should  have  had  secret  commissions  among  such  people; 
and  that  the  execution  of  such  should  be  entrusted,  at 
least  occasionally,  to  Fenella? 

Thus  reflecting,  Julian  continued  to  follow  her  light 
and  active  footsteps  as  she  gHded  from  the  Strand  to 
Spring  Garden,  and  thence  into  the  Park. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  morning,  and  the  Mall  was 
untenanted,  save  by  a  few  walkers,  who  frequented  these 
shades  for  the  wholesome  purposes  of  air  and  exercise. 
Splendour,  gaiety,  and  display  did  not  come  forth,  at 
that  period,  until  noon  was  approaching.  All  readers 
have  heard  that  the  whole  space  where  the  Horse  Guards 

137 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

are  now  built  made,  in  the  time  of  Charles  II,  a  part  of 
St.  James's  Park;  and  that  the  old  building,  now  called 
the  Treasury,  was  a  part  of  the  ancient  palace  of  White- 
hall, which  was  thus  immediately  connected  with  the 
Park.  The  canal  had  been  constructed  by  the  celebrated 
Le  Notre,  for  the  purpose  of  draining  the  Park;  and  it 
communicated  with  the  Thames  by  a  decoy,  stocked  with 
a  quantity  of  the  rarer  waterfowl.  It  was  towards  this 
decoy  that  Fenella  bent  her  way  with  unabated  speed; 
and  they  were  approaching  a  group  of  two  or  three  gen- 
tlemen who  sauntered  by  its  banks,  when,  on  looking 
closely  at  him  who  appeared  to  be  the  chief  of  the  party, 
Julian  felt  his  heart  beat  uncommonly  thick,  as  if  con- 
scious of  approacliing  some  one  of  the  highest  conse- 
quence. 

The  person  whom  he  looked  upon  was  past  the  middle 
age  of  life,  of  a  dark  complexion,  corresponding  with  the 
long,  black,  full-bottomed  periwig  which  he  wore  instead 
of  his  own  hair.  His  dress  was  plain  black  velvet,  with  a 
diamond  star,  however,  on  his  cloak,  which  hung  care- 
lessly over  one  shoulder.  His  features,  strongly  lined, 
even  to  harshness,  had  yet  an  expression  of  dignified 
good-humour;  he  was  well  and  strongly  built,  walked 
upright  and  yet  easily,  and  had  upon  the  whole  the  air 
of  a  person  of  the  highest  consideration.  He  kept  rather 
in  advance  of  his  companions,  but  turned  and  spoke  to 
them,  from  time  to  time,  with  much  affabihty,  and 
probably  with  some  liveliness,  judging  by  the  smiles, 
and  sometimes  the  scarce  restrained  laughter,  by  which 
some  of  his  sallies  were  received  by  his  attendants.  They 
also  wore  only  morning  dresses ;  but  their  looks  and  man- 
ner were  those  of  men  of  rank,  in  presence  of  one  in  sta- 

138 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tion  still  more  elevated.  They  shared  the  attention  of 
their  principal  in  common  with  seven  or  eight  Uttle  black, 
curly-haired  spaniels,  or  rather,  as  they  are  now  called, 
cockers,  which  attended  their  master  as  closely,  and 
perhaps  with  as  deep  sentiments  of  attachment,  as  the 
bipeds  of  the  group;  and  whose  gambols,  which  seemed 
to  afford  him  much  amusement,  he  sometimes  checked, 
and  sometimes  encouraged.  In  addition  to  this  pastime, 
a  lackey,  or  groom,  was  also  in  attendance,  with  one  or 
two  Httle  baskets  and  bags,  from  which  the  gentleman 
we  have  described  took,  from  time  to  time,  a  handful  of 
seeds,  and  amused  himself  with  throwing  them  to  the 
waterfowl. 

This,  the  King's  favourite  occupation,  together  with 
his  remarkable  countenance  and  the  deportment  of  the 
rest  of  the  company  towards  him,  satisfied  JuHan  Peveril 
that  he  was  approaching,  perhaps  indecorously,  near 
to  the  person  of  Charles  Stuart,  the  second  of  that 
unhappy  name. 

While  he  hesitated  to  follow  his  dumb  guide  any 
nearer,  and  felt  the  embarrassment  of  being  unable  to 
communicate  to  her  his  repugnance  to  further  intrusion, 
a  person  in  the  royal  retinue  touched  a  light  a.nd  lively 
air  on  the  flageolet,  at  a  signal  from  the  King,  who  de- 
sired to  have  some  tune  repeated  which  had  struck  him 
in  the  theatre  on  the  preceding  evening.  While  the  good- 
natured  monarch  marked  time  with  his  foot  and  with 
the  motion  of  his  hand,  Fenella  continued  to  approach 
him,  and  threw  into  her  manner  the  appearance  of  one 
who  was  attracted,  as  it  were  in  spite  of  herself,  by  the 
sounds  of  the  instrument. 

Anxious  to  know  how  this  was  to  end,  and  astonished 

139 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  see  the  dumb  girl  imitate  so  accurately  the  mamier  of 
one  who  actually  heard  the  musical  notes,  Peveril  also 
drew  near,  though  at  somewhat  greater  distance. 

The  King  looked  good-humouredly  at  both,  as  if  he 
admitted  their  musical  enthusiasm  as  an  excuse  for  their 
intrusion ;  but  his  eyes  became  riveted  on  Fenella,  whose 
face  and  appearance,  although  rather  singular  than 
beautiful,  had  something  in  them  wild,  fantastic,  and, 
as  being  so,  even  captivating  to  an  eye  which  had  been 
gratified  perhaps  to  satiety  with  the  ordinary  forms  of 
female  beauty.  She  did  not  appear  to  notice  how  closely 
she  was  observed ;  but,  as  if  acting  under  an  irresistible 
impulse,  derived  from  the  sounds  to  which  she  seemed  to 
listen,  she  undid  the  bodkin  round  which  her  long  tresses 
were  winded,  and  flinging  them  suddenly  over  her  slender 
person,  as  if  using  them  as  a  natural  veil,  she  began  to 
dance,  with  infinite  grace  and  agility,  to  the  tune  which 
the  flageolet  played. 

Peveril  lost  almost  liis  sense  of  the  King's  presence, 
when  he  observed  with  what  wonderful  grace  and  agility 
Fenella  kept  time  to  notes  which  could  only  be  known 
to  her  by  the  motions  of  the  musician's  fingers.  He  had 
heard,  indeed,  among  other  prodigies,  of  a  person  in 
Fenella's  unhappy  situation  acquiring,  by  some  unac- 
countable and  mysterious  tact,  the  power  of  acting  as 
an  instrumental  musician,  nay,  becoming  so  accurate  a 
performer  as  to  be  capable  of  leading  a  musical  band; 
and  he  had  also  heard  of  deaf  and  dumb  persons  dancing 
with  sufficient  accuracy,  by  observing  the  motions  of 
their  partner.  But  FeneUa's  performance  seemed  more 
wonderful  than  either,  since  the  musician  was  guided  by 
his  written  notes,  and  the  dancer  by  the  motions  of  the 

140 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

others;  whereas  Fenella  had  no  intimation,  save  what 
she  seemed  to  gather,  with  infinite  accuracy,  by  observ- 
ing the  motion  of  the  artist's  fingers  on  his  small  instru- 
ment. 

As  for  the  King,  who  was  ignorant  of  the  particular 
circumstances  which  rendered  Fenella's  performance 
almost  marvellous,  he  was  contented,  at  her  first  com- 
mencement, to  authorise  what  seemed  to  him  the  frolic 
of  this  singular-looking  damsel  by  a  good-humoured 
smile;  but  when  he  perceived  the  exquisite  truth  and 
justice,  as  well  as  the  wonderful  combination  of  grace 
and  agility,  with  which  she  executed  to  his  favourite  air 
a  dance  which  was  perfectly  new  to  him,  Charles  turned 
his  mere  acquiescence  into  something  like  enthusiastic 
applause.  He  bore  time  to  her  motions  with  the  move- 
ment of  his  foot,  applauded  with  head  and  with  hand, 
and  seemed,  like  herself,  carried  away  by  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  gestic  art. 

After  a  rapid  yet  graceful  succession  of  entrechats, 
Fenella  introduced  a  slow  movement,  which  terminated 
the  dance;  then  dropping  a  profound  curtsy,  she  con- 
tinued to  stand  motionless  before  the  King,  her  arms 
folded  on  her  bosom,  her  head  stooped,  and  her  eyes  cast 
down,  after  the  manner  of  an  Oriental  slave;  while 
through  the  misty  veil  of  her  shadowy  locks  it  might  be 
observed  that  the  colour  which  exercise  had  called  to  her 
cheeks  was  dying  fast  away,  and  resigning  them  to  their 
native  dusky  hue. 

'By  my  honour,'  exclaimed  the  King,  'she  is  like  a 
fairy  who  trips  it  in  moonlight.  There  must  be  more  of 
air  and  fire  than  of  earth  in  her  composition.  It  is  well 
poor  Nelly  Gwyn  saw  her  not,  or  she  would  have  died  of 

141 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

grief  and  envy.    Come,  gentlemen,  which  of  you  con- 
trived this  pretty  piece  of  morning  pastime? ' 

The  courtiers  looked  at  each  other,  but  none  of  them 
felt  authorised  to  claim  the  merit  of  a  service  so  agree- 
able. 

'We  must  ask  the  quick-eyed  nymph  herself,  then,' 
said  the  King;  and,  looking  at  Fenella,  he  added,  'Tell 
us,  my  pretty  one,  to  whom  we  owe  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
you.  I  suspect  the  Duke  of  Buckingham;  for  this  is 
exactly  a  tour  de  son  metier.'' 

Fenella,  on  observing  that  the  King  addressed  her, 
bowed  low  and  shook  her  head,  in  signal  that  she  did  not 
understand  what  he  said.  'Odds-fish,  that  is  true,'  said 
the  King;  'she  must  perforce  be  a  foreigner:  her  com- 
plexion and  agility  speak  it.  France  or  Italy  has  had  the 
moulding  of  these  elastic  limbs,  dark  cheek,  and  eye  of 
fire.'  He  then  put  to  her  in  French,  and  again  in  Italian, 
the  question,  'By  whom  she  had  been  sent  hither?' 

At  the  second  repetition,  Fenella  threw  back  her  veil- 
ing tresses,  so  as  to  show  the  melancholy  which  sat  on 
her  brow;  while  she  sadly  shook  her  head,  and  intimated 
by  imperfect  muttering,  but  of  the  softest  and  most 
plaintive  kind,  her  organic  deficiency. 

'Is  it  possible  Nature  can  have  made  such  a  fault?' 
said  Charles.  'Can  she  have  left  so  curious  a  piece  as 
thou  art  without  the  melody  of  voice,  whilst  she  has 
made  thee  so  exquisitely  sensible  to  the  beauty  of  soimd? 
Stay  —  what  means  this?  and  what  young  fellow  are 
you  bringing  up  there?  Oh,  the  master  of  the  show,  I 
suppose.  Friend,'  he  added,  addressing  himself  to  Pev- 
eril,  who,  on  the  signal  of  Fenella,  stepped  forward 
almost  instinctively  and  kneeled  down,  'we  thank  thee 

142 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

for  the  pleasure  of  this  morning.  My  lord  marquis,  you 
rooked  me  at  piquet  last  night,  for  which  disloyal  deed 
thou  shalt  now  atone,  by  giving  a  couple  of  pieces  to  this 
honest  youth  and  five  to  the  girl.' 

As  the  nobleman  drew  out  his  purse  and  came  forward 
to  perform  the  King's  generous  commission,  JuUan  felt 
some  embarrassment  ere  he  was  able  to  explain  that  he 
had  no  title  to  be  benefited  by  the  young  person's  per- 
formance, and  that  his  Majesty  had  mistaken  his  char- 
acter. 

'And  who  art  thou,  then,  my  friend?'  said  Charles; 
'but,  above  all,  and  particularly,  who  is  this  dancing 
n3mciph,  whom  thou  standest  waiting  on  like  an  attend- 
ant faun?' 

'The  young  person  is  a  retainer  of  the  Countess-Dow- 
ager of  Derby,  so  please  your  Majesty,'  said  Peveril,  in  a 
low  tone  of  voice;  '  and  I  am  — ' 

'Hold  —  hold,'  said  the  King;  'this  is  a  dance  to 
another  tune,  and  not  fit  for  a  place  so  pubHc.  Hark 
thee,  friend,  do  thou  and  the  young  woman  follow  Emp- 
son  where  he  will  conduct  thee.  Empson,  carry  them  — ■ 
hark  in  thy  ear.' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,  I  ought  to  say,'  said 
Peveril,  '  that  I  am  guiltless  of  any  purpose  of  intru- 
sion — ' 

'Now,  a  plague  on  him  who  can  take  no  hint,'  said  the 
King,  cutting  short  his  apology.  'Odds-fish,  man,  there 
are  times  when  civility  is  the  greatest  impertinence  in 
the  world.  Do  thou  follow  Empson,  and  amuse  thyself 
for  an  half  hour's  space  with  the  fairy's  company,  till  we 
shall  send  for  you.' 

Charles  spoke  this  not  without  casting  an  anxious 

143 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

eye  around,  and  in  a  tone  which  intimated  apprehension 
of  being  overheard.  Julian  could  only  bow  obedience  and 
follow  Empson,  who  was  the  same  person  that  played 
so  rarely  on  the  flageolet. 

When  they  were  out  of  sight  of  the  King  and  his 
party,  the  musician  wished  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  his  companions,  and  addressed  himself  first  to  Fen- 
ella,  with  a  broad  compliment  of  'By  the  mass,  ye  dance 
rarely:  ne'er  a  slut  on  the  boards  shows  such  a  shank!  I 
would  be  content  to  play  to  you  till  my  throat  were  as 
dry  as  my  whistle.  Come,  be  a  Httle  free;  Old  Rowley 
wiU  not  quit  the  Park  till  nine.  I  will  carry  you  to  Spring 
Gardens,  and  bestow  sweet  cakes  and  a  quart  of  Rhenish 
on  both  of  you;  and  we'U  be  cameradoes.  What  the 
devil !  no  answer?  How  's  this,  brother?  Is  this  neat 
wench  of  yours  deaf  or  dumb,  or  both?  I  should  laugh 
at  that,  and  she  trip  it  so  well  to  the  flageolet.' 

To  rid  himself  of  this  fellow's  discourse,  Peveril  an- 
swered him  in  French  that  he  was  a  foreigner  and  spoke 
no  English;  glad  to  escape,  though  at  the  expense  of 
a  fiction,  from  the  additional  embarrassment  of  a  fool, 
who  was  likely  to  ask  more  questions  than  his  own  wis- 
dom might  have  enabled  him  to  answer. 

'Stranger  —  that  means  stranger,'  muttered  their 
guide;  'more  French  dogs  and  jades  come  to  lick  the 
good  English  butter  off  our  bread,  or  perhaps  an  ItaUan 
puppet-show.  Well,  if  it  were  not  that  they  have  a  mor- 
tal enmity  to  the  whole  gamut,  this  were  enough  to 
make  any  honest  fellow  turn  Puritan.  But  if  I  am  to 
play  to  her  at  the  Duchess's,  I'll  be  d — d  but  I  put  her 
out  in  the  tune,  just  to  teach  her  to  have  the  impudence 
to  come  to  England  and  to  speak  no  English.' 

144 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Having  muttered  to  himself  this  truly  British  resolu- 
tion, the  musician  walked  briskly  on  towards  a  large 
house  near  the  bottom  of  St.  James's  Street,  and  entered 
the  court,  by  a  grated  door,  from  the  Park,  of  which  the 
mansion  commanded  an  extensive  prospect. 

Peveril,  finding  himself  in  front  of  a  handsome  portico, 
under  which  opened  a  stately  pair  of  folding-doors,  was 
about  to  ascend  the  steps  that  led  to  the  main  entrance, 
when  his  guide  seized  him  by  the  arm,  exclaiming,  'Hold, 
Mounseer !  What !  you  '11  lose  nothing,  I  see,  for  want  of 
courage;  but  you  must  keep  the  back  way,  for  all  your 
fine  doublet.  Here  it  is  not,  "Knock  and  it  shall  be 
opened";  but  may  be  instead,  "Knock  and  you  shall  be 
knocked.'" 

Suffering  himself  to  be  guided  by  Empson,  Julian 
deviated  from  the  principal  door  to  one  which  opened, 
with  less  ostentation,  in  an  angle  of  the  courtyard.  On  a 
modest  tap  from  the  flute-player,  admittance  was  af- 
forded him  and  his  companions  by  a  footman,  who  con- 
ducted them  through  a  variety  of  stone  passages  to  a 
very  handsome  summer  parlour,  where  a  lady,  or  some- 
thing resembling  one,  dressed  in  a  style  of  extra  elegance, 
was  trifling  with  a  play-book  while  she  finished  her 
chocolate.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  describe  her,  but  by 
weighing  her  natural  good  qualities  against  the  affecta- 
tions which  counterbalanced  them.  She  would  have  been 
handsome,  but  for  rouge  and  minauderie ;  would  have 
been  civil,  but  for  overstrained  airs  of  patronage  and 
condescension;  would  have  had  an  agreeable  voice,  had 
she  spoken  in  her  natural  tone;  and  fine  eyes,  had  she 
not  made  such  desperate  hard  use  of  them.  She  could 
only  spoil  a  pretty  ankle  by  too  liberal  display;  but  her 

88  145 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

shape,  though  she  could  not  yet  be  thirty  years  old,  had 
the  embonpoint  which  might  have  suited  better  with  ten 
years  more  advanced.  She  pointed  Empson  to  a  seat 
with  the  air  of  a  duchess,  and  asked  him,  languidly, 
how  he  did  this  age,  that  she  had  not  seen  him,  and  what 
folks  these  were  he  had  brought  with  him. 

'Foreigners,  madam  —  d — d  foreigners,'  answered 
Empson  —  *  starving  beggars,  that  our  old  friend  has 
picked  up  in  the  Park  this  morning;  the  wench  dances, 
and  the  fellow  plays  on  the  Jew's-trump,  I  believe.  On 
my  life,  madam,  I  begin  to  be  ashamed  of  Old  Rowley; 
I  must  discard  him,  unless  he  keeps  better  company  in 
future.' 

'Fie,  Empson,'  said  the  lady;  'consider  it  is  our  duty 
to  coimtenance  him,  and  keep  him  afloat;  and  indeed  I 
always  make  a  principle  of  it.  Hark  ye,  he  comes  not 
hither  this  morning?' 

*He  will  be  here,'  answered  Empson,  'in  the  walking 
of  a  minuet.' 

'My  God!'  exclaimed  the  lady,  with  unaffected 
alarm ;  and  starting  up  with  utter  neglect  of  her  usual 
airs  of  graceful  languor,  she  tripped  as  swiftly  as  a  milk- 
maid into  an  adjoining  apartment,  where  they  heard 
presently  a  few  words  of  eager  and  animated  discus- 
sion. 

'Something  to  be  put  out  of  the  way,  I  suppose,'  said 
Empson.  '  Well  for  madam  I  gave  her  the  hint.  There  he 
goes,  the  happy  swain.' 

Julian  was  so  situated  that  he  could,  from  the  same 
casement  through  which  Empson  was  peeping,  observe  a 
man  in  a  laced  roquelaure,  and  carrying  his  rapier  under 
his  arm,  glide  from  the  door  by  which  he  had  himself 

146 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

entered,  and  out  of  the  court,  keeping  as  much  as  possi- 
ble under  the  shade  of  the  buildings. 

The  lady  reentered  at  this  moment,  and  observing 
how  Empson's  eyes  were  directed,  said,  with  a  slight 
appearance  of  hurry,  'A  gentleman  of  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth's  with  a  billet;  and  so  tiresomely  pressing  for 
an  answer,  that  I  was  obhged  to  write  without  my  dia- 
mond pen.  I  have  daubed  my  fingers,  I  daresay,'  she 
added,  looking  at  a  very  pretty  hand,  and  presently 
after  dipping  her  fingers  in  a  little  silver  vase  of  rose- 
water.  'But  that  little  exotic  monster  of  yours,  Empson, 
I  hope  she  really  understands  no  English?  On  my  life, 
she  coloured.  Is  she  such  a  rare  dancer?  I  must  see  her 
dance,  and  hear  him  play  on  the  Jew's-harp.' 

'Dance!'  replied  Empson;  'she  danced  well  enough 
when  /  played  to  her.  I  can  make  anything  dance.  Old 
Counsellor  Clubfoot  danced  when  he  had  a  fit  of  the 
gout;  you  have  seen  no  such  pas  seul  in  the  theatre.  I 
would  engage  to  make  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
dance  the  hays  like  a  Frenchman.  There  is  nothing  in 
dancing;  it  all  lies  in  the  music.  Rowley  does  not  know 
that  now.  He  saw  this  poor  wench  dance ;  and  thought 
so  much  on't,  when  it  was  all  along  of  me.  I  would  have 
defied  her  to  sit  still.  And  Rowley  gives  her  the  credit 
of  it,  and  five  pieces  to  boot;  and  I  have  only  two  for  my 
morning's  work ! ' 

'True,  Master  Empson,'  said  the  lady;  'but  you  are  of 
the  family,  though  in  a  lower  station ;  and  you  ought  to 
consider  — ' 

'By  G — ,  madam,'  answered  Empson,  'all  I  consider 
is,  that  I  play  the  best  flageolet  in  England;  and  that 
they  can  no  more  supply  my  place,  if  they  were  to  dis- 

147 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

card  me,  than  they  could  fill  Thames  from  Fleet 
Ditch.' 

*  Well,  Master  Empson,  I  do  not  dispute  but  you  are  a 
man  of  talents,'  replied  the  lady;  'still  I  say,  mind  the 
main  chance ;  you  please  the  ear  to-day,  another  has  the 
advantage  of  you  to-morrow.' 

'Never,  mistress,  while  ears  have  the  heavenly  power 
of  distinguishing  one  note  from  another.' 

'Heavenly  power,  say  you,  Master  Empson?'  said  the 
lady. 

*Ay,  madam,  heavenly;  for  some  very  neat  verses 
which  we  had  at  our  festival  say. 

What  know  we  of  the  blest  above, 
But  that  they  sing  and  that  they  love? 

It  is  Master  Waller  wrote  them,  as  I  think;  who,  upon 
my  word,  ought  to  be  encouraged.' 

'And  so  should  you,  my  dear  Empson,'  said  the  dame, 
yawning, '  were  it  only  for  the  honour  you  do  to  your  own 
profession.  But,  in  the  meantime,  will  you  ask  these 
people  to  have  some  refreshment?  and  will  you  take 
some  yourself?  The  chocolate  is  that  which  the  Ambas- 
sador Portuguese  fellow  brought  over  to  the  Queen.' 

'If  it  be  genuine,'  said  the  musician. 

'How,  sir!'  said  the  fair  one,  half  rising  from  her  pile 
of  cushions  —  'not  genuine,  and  in  this  house!  Let  me 
understand  you.  Master  Empson.  I  think,  when  I  first 
saw  you,  you  scarce  knew  chocolate  from  coffee.' 

'By  G — ,  madam,'  answered  the  flageolet-player, 
'you  are  perfectly  right.  And  how  can  I  show  better 
how  much  I  have  profited  by  your  ladyship's  excellent 
cheer,  except  by  being  critical?' 

148 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*You  stand  excused,  Master  Empson/  said  the  petite 
maitresse,  sinking  gently  back  on  the  downy  couch,  from 
which  a  momentary  irritation  had  startled  her.  *  I  think 
the  chocolate  will  please  you,  though  scarce  equal  to 
what  we  had  from  the  Spanish  resident  Mendoza.  But 
we  must  offer  these  strange  people  something.  Will 
you  ask  them  if  they  would  have  coffee  and  chocolate, 
or  cold  wild-fowl,  fruit  and  wine?  They  must  be  treated, 
so  as  to  show  them  where  they  are,  since  here  they  are.' 

*  Unquestionably,  madam,'  said  Empson;  'but  I  have 
just  at  this  instant  forgot  the  French  for  chocolate,  hot 
bread,  coffee,  game,  and  drinkables.' 

*  It  is  odd,'  said  the  lady ; '  and  I  have  forgot  my  French 
and  Italian  at  the  same  moment.  But  it  signifies  little :  I 
will  order  the  things  to  be  brought,  and  they  will  remem- 
ber the  names  of  them  themselves.' 

Empson  laughed  loudly  at  this  jest,  and  pawned  his 
soul  that  the  cold  sirloin,  which  entered  immediately 
after,  was  the  best  emblem  of  roast-beef  all  the  world 
over.  Plentiful  refreshments  were  offered  to  all  the  party, 
of  which  both  Fenella  and  Peveril  partook. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  flageolet-player  drew  closer  to 
the  side  of  the  lady  of  the  mansion;  their  intimacy  was 
cemented,  and  their  spirits  set  afloat,  by  a  glass  of 
liqueur,  which  gave  them  additional  confidence  in  dis- 
cussing the  characters  as  well  of  the  superior  attendants 
of  the  court  as  of  the  inferior  rank,  to  which  they  them- 
selves might  be  supposed  to  belong. 

The  lady,  indeed,  during  this  conversation,  frequently 
exerted  her  complete  and  absolute  superiority  over  Mas- 
ter Empson;  in  which  that  musical  gentleman  humbly 
acquiesced  whenever  the  circumstance  was  recalled  to 

149 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  attention,  whether  in  the  way  of  blunt  contradiction, 
sarcastic  insinuation,  downright  assumption  of  higher  im- 
portance, or  in  any  of  the  other  various  modes  by  which 
such  superiority  is  usually  asserted  and  maintained.  But 
the  lady's  obvious  love  of  scandal  was  the  lure  which 
very  soon  brought  her  again  down  from  the  dignified 
port  which  for  a  moment  she  assumed,  and  placed  her 
once  more  on  a  gossiping  level  with  her  companion. 

Their  conversation  was  too  trivial,  and  too  much 
alhed  to  petty  court  intrigues  with  which  he  was  totally 
unacquainted,  to  be  in  the  least  interesting  to  Julian. 
As  it  continued  for  more  than  an  hour,  he  soon  ceased  to 
pay  the  least  attention  to  a  discourse  consisting  of  nick- 
names, patchwork,  and  innuendo;  and  employed  himself 
in  reflecting  on  his  own  complicated  affairs,  and  the 
probable  issue  of  his  approaching  audience  with  the 
King,  which  had  been  brought  about  by  so  singular  an 
agent,  and  by  means  so  unexpected.  He  often  looked  to 
his  guide,  Fenella,  and  observed  that  she  was,  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  time,  drowned  in  deep  and  abstracted 
meditation.  But  three  or  four  times  —  and  it  was  when 
the  assumed  airs  and  affected  importance  of  the  musi- 
cian and  their  hostess  rose  to  the  most  extravagant 
excess  —  he  observed  that  Fenella  dealt  askance  on 
them  some  of  those  bitter  and  almost  blighting  elfin 
looks  which  in  the  Isle  of  Man  were  held  to  imply  con- 
temptuous execration.  There  was  something  in  all  her 
manner  so  extraordinary,  joined  to  her  sudden  appear- 
ance, and  her  demeanour  in  the  King's  presence,  so 
oddly,  yet  so  well,  contrived  to  procure  him  a  private 
audience  —  which  he  might,  by  graver  means,  have 
sought  in  vain  — '■  that  it  almost  justified  the  idea,  though 

150 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

he  smiled  at  it  internally,  that  the  little  mute  agent  was 
aided  in  her  machinations  by  the  kindred  imps  to  whom, 
according  to  Manx  superstition,  her  genealogy  was  to  be 
traced. 

Another  idea  sometimes  occurred  to  Julian,  though 
he  rejected  the  question  as  being  equally  wild  with  those 
doubts  which  referred  Fenella  to  a  race  different  from 
that  of  mortals  —  '  Was  she  really  aiJ&icted  with  those 
organical  imperfections  which  had  always  seemed  to 
sever  her  from  humanity?  If  not,  what  could  be  the 
motives  of  so  young  a  creature  practising  so  dreadful  a 
penance  for  such  an  unremitted  term  of  years?  And 
how  formidable  must  be  the  strength  of  mind  which 
could  condemn  itself  to  so  terrific  a  sacrifice,  how  deep 
and  strong  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  undertaken ! ' 

But  a  brief  recollection  of  past  events  enabled  him  to 
dismiss  this  conjecture  as  altogether  wild  and  visionary. 
He  had  but  to  call  to  memory  the  various  stratagems 
practised  by  his  light-hearted  companion,  the  young 
Earl  of  Derby,  upon  this  forlorn  girl,  the  conversations 
held  in  her  presence,  in  which  the  character  of  a  creature 
so  irritable  and  sensitive  upon  all  occasions  was  freely, 
and  sometimes  satirically,  discussed,  without  her  express- 
ing the  least  acquaintance  with  what  was  going  forward 
to  convince  him  that  so  deep  a  deception  could  never 
have  been  practised  for  so  many  years  by  a  being  of  a 
turn  of  mind  so  peculiarly  jealous  and  irascible. 

He  renounced,  therefore,  the  idea,  and  turned  his 
thoughts  to  his  own  affairs  and  his  approaching  interview 
with  his  sovereign,  in  which  meditation  we  propose  to 
leave  him  imtil  we  briefly  review  the  changes  which  had 
taken  place  in  the  situation  of  Alice  Bridgenorth. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


f   I  fear  the  devil  worst  when  gown  and  cassock, 
Or,  in  the  lack  of  them,  old  Calvin's  cloak. 
Conceals  his  cloven  hoof. 

Anonymous. 


Julian  Peveril  had  scarce  set  sail  for  Whitehaven, 
when  Alice  Bridgenorth  and  her  governante,  at  the 
hasty  command  of  her  father,  were  embarked  with  equal 
speed  and  secrecy  on  board  of  a  bark  bound  for  Liver- 
pool. Christian  accompanied  them  on  their  voyage,  as 
the  friend  to  whose  guardianship  Alice  was  to  be  con- 
signed during  any  future  separation  from  her  father,  and 
whose  amusing  conversation,  joined  to  his  pleasing 
though  cold  manners,  as  well  as  his  near  relationship, 
induced  Alice,  in  her  forlorn  situation,  to  consider  her 
fate  as  fortunate  in  having  such  a  guardian. 

At  Liverpool,  as  the  reader  already  knows.  Christian 
took  the  first  overt  step  in  the  villainy  which  he  had  con- 
trived against  the  innocent  girl,  by  exposing  her  at  a 
meeting-house  to  the  unhallowed  gaze  of  Chiffinch,  in 
order  to  convince  him  she  was  possessed  of  such  uncom- 
mon beauty  as  might  well  deserve  the  infamous  promo- 
tion to  which  they  meditated  to  raise  her. 

Highly  satisfied  with  her  personal  appearance,  Chif- 
finch was  no  less  so  with  the  sense  and  dehcacy  of  her 
conversation,  when  he  met  her  in  company  with  her 
uncle  afterwards  in  London,  The  simplicity,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  spirit,  of  her  remarks  made  him  regard 
her  as  his  scientific  attendant  the  cook  might  have  done 

152 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

a  newly  invented  sauce,  sufficiently  piquante  in  its  quali- 
ties to  awaken  the  jaded  appetite  of  a  cloyed  and  gorged 
epicure.  'She  was,'  he  said  and  swore,  'the  very  corner- 
stone on  which,  with  proper  management,  and  with  his 
instructions,  a  few  honest  fellows  might  build  a  court 
fortune.' 

That  the  necessary  introduction  might  take  place, 
the  confederates  judged  fit  she  should  be  put  under  the 
charge  of  an  experienced  lady,  whom  some  called  Mis- 
tress Chiffinch,  and  others  Chiffinch's  mistress  —  one  of 
those  obliging  creatures  who  are  willing  to  discharge  all 
the  duties  of  a  wife  without  the  inconvenient  and  indis- 
soluble ceremony. 

It  was  one,  and  not  perhaps  the  least,  prejudicial  con- 
sequence of  the  license  of  that  ill-governed  time,  that 
the  bounds  betwixt  virtue  and  vice  were  so  far  smoothed 
down  and  levelled,  that  the  frail  wife,  or  the  tender 
friend  who  was  no  wife,  did  not  necessarily  lose  their 
place  in  society;  but,  on  the  contrary,  if  they  moved 
in  the  higher  circles,  were  permitted  and  encouraged  to 
mingle  with  women  whose  rank  was  certain  and  whose 
reputation  was  untainted. 

A  regular  liaison,  like  that  of  Chiffinch  and  his  fair 
one,  inferred  little  scandal;  and  such  was  his  influence,  as 
prime  minister  of  his  master's  pleasures,  that,  as  Charles 
himself  expressed  it,  the  lady  whom  we  introduced  to 
our  readers  in  the  last  chapter  had  obtained  a  brevet 
commission  to  rank  as  a  married  woman.  And  to  do  the 
gentle  dame  justice,  no  wife  could  have  been  more  atten- 
tive to  forward  his  plans,  or  more  liberal  in  disposing  of 
his  income. 
.  She  inhabited  a  set  of  apartments  called  Chiffinch's  — 

153 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  scene  of  many  an  intrigue,  both  of  love  and  politics; 
and  where  Charies  often  held  his  private  parties  for  the 
evening,  when,  as  frequently  happened,  the  ill-humour 
of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  his  reigning  sultana, 
prevented  his  supping  with  her.  The  hold  which  such 
an  arrangement  gave  a  man  like  Chiffinch,  used  as  he 
well  knew  how  to  use  it,  made  him  of  too  much  conse- 
quence to  be  sUghted  even  by  the  first  persons  in  the 
state,  unless  they  stood  aloof  from  all  manner  of  politics 
and  court  intrigue. 

In  the  charge  of  Mistress  Chiffinch,  and  of  him  whose 
name  she  bore,  Edward  Christian  placed  the  daughter 
of  his  sister  and  of  his  confiding  friend,  calmly  contem- 
plating her  ruin  as  an  event  certain  to  follow;  and  hoping 
to  ground  upon  it  his  own  chance  of  a  more  assured  for- 
tune than  a  life  spent  in  intrigue  had  hitherto  been  able 
to  procure  for  him. 

The  innocent  Alice,  without  being  able  to  discover 
what  was  wrong  either  in  the  scenes  of  unusual  luxury 
with  which  she  was  surrounded  or  in  the  manners  of  her 
hostess,  which,  both  from  nature  and  policy,  were  kind 
and  caressing,  felt  nevertheless  an  instinctive  apprehen- 
sion that  all  was  not  right  —  a  feeling  in  the  human 
mind  allied,  perhaps,  to  that  sense  of  danger  which  ani- 
mals exhibit  when  placed  in  the  vicinity  of  the  natural 
enemies  of  their  race,  and  which  makes  birds  cower 
when  the  hawk  is  in  the  air,  and  beasts  tremble  when 
the  tiger  is  abroad  in  the  desert.  There  was  a  heaviness 
at  her  heart  which  she  could  not  dispel;  and  the  few 
hours  which  she  had  already  spent  at  Chiffinch 's  were 
like  those  passed  in  a  prison  by  one  unconscious  of  the 
cause  or  event  of  his  captivity.  It  was  the  third  morning 

154 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

after  her  arrival  in  London  that  the  scene  took  place 
which  we  now  recur  to. 

The  impertinence  and  vulgarity  of  Empson,  which 
was  permitted  to  him  as  an  unrivalled  performer  upon 
his  instrument,  were  exhausting  themselves  at  the  ex- 
pense of  all  other  musical  professors,  and  Mistress 
Chiffinch  was  listening  with  careless  indifference,  when 
some  one  was  heard  speaking  loudly,  and  with  anima- 
tion, in  the  inner  apartment. 

*  O  gemini  and  gilliflower  water ! '  exclaimed  the  dam- 
sel, startled  out  of  her  fine  airs  into  her  natural  vulgarity 
of  exclamation,  and  running  to  the  door  of  communica- 
tion, 'if  he  has  not  come  back  again  after  all !  and  if  Old 
Rowley — ' 

A  tap  at  the  farther  and  opposite  door  here  arrested 
her  attention;  she  quitted  the  handle  of  that  which  she 
was  about  to  open  as  speedily  as  if  it  had  burnt  her  fin- 
gers, and,  moving  back  towards  her  couch,  asked,  'Who 
is  there?' 

'Old  Rowley  himself,  madam,'  said  the  King,  enter- 
ing the  apartment  with  his  usual  air  of  easy  compo- 
sure. 

*0  crimini!  your  Majesty!   I  thought — ' 

'That  I  was  out  of  hearing,  doubtless,'  said  the  King; 
'and  spoke  of  me  as  folks  speak  of  absent  friends. 
Make  no  apology.  I  think  I  have  heard  ladies  say  of 
their  lace,  that  a  rent  is  better  than  a  darn.  Nay,  be 
seated.  Where  is  Chiffinch?' 

'He  is  down  at  York  House,  your  Majesty,'  said  the 
dame,  recovering,  though  with  no  small  difficulty,  the 
calm  affectation  of  her  usual  demeanour.  'Shall  I  send 
your  Majesty's  commands? ' 

IS5 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'I  will  wait  his  return/  said  the  King.  'Permit  me  to 
taste  your  chocolate.' 

'There  is  some  fresh  frothed  in  the  office,'  said  the 
lady;  and  using  a  little  silver  call,  or  whistle,  a  black 
boy,  superbly  dressed  like  an  oriental  page,  with  gold 
bracelets  on  his  naked  arms  and  a  gold  collar  around  his 
equally  bare  neck,  attended  with  the  favourite  beverage 
of  the  morning,  in  an  apparatus  of  the  richest  china. 

While  he  sipped  his  cup  of  chocolate,  the  King  looked 
round  the  apartment,  and  observing  Fenella,  Peveril, 
and  the  musician,  who  remained  standing  beside  a  large 
Indian  screen,  he  continued,  addressing  Mistress  Chif- 
j&nch,  though  with  polite  indifference,  'I  sent  you  the 
fiddles  this  morning  —  or  rather  the  flute  —  Empson, 
and  a  fairy  elf  whom  I  met  in  the  Park,  who  dances  di- 
vinely. She  has  brought  us  the  very  newest  saraband 
from  the  court  of  Queen  Mab,  and  I  sent  her  here  that 
you  may  see  it  at  leisure.' 

'Your  Majesty  does  me  by  far  too  much  honour,' 
said  Chiffinch,  her  eyes  properly  cast  down,  and  her  ac- 
cents minced  into  becoming  humility. 

'Nay,  little  Chiffinch,'  answered  the  King,  in  a  tone 
of  as  contemptuous  familiarity  as  was  consistent  with 
his  good-breeding,  'it  was  not  altogether  for  thine  own 
private  ear,  though  quite  deserving  of  all  sweet  sounds; 
but  I  thought  Nelly  had  been  with  thee  this  morning.' 

'I  can  send  Bajazet  for  her,  your  Majesty,'  answered 
the  lady. 

'Nay,  I  will  not  trouble  your  little  heathen  sultan  to 
go  so  far.  Still,  it  strikes  me  that  Chiffinch  said  you  had 
company  —  some  country  cousin,  or  such  a  matter. 
Is  there  not  such  a  person?' 

156 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'There  is  a  young  person  from  the  country,*  said  Mis- 
tress Chiffinch,  striving  to  conceal  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  embarrassment;  'but  she  is  unprepared  for  such 
an  honour  as  to  be  admitted  into  your  Majesty's  pre- 
sence, and — ' 

'And  therefore  the  fitter  to  receive  it,  Chiffinch.  There 
is  nothing  in  nature  so  beautiful  as  the  first  blush  of  a 
little  rustic  between  joy  and  fear,  and  wonder  and  curi- 
osity. It  is  the  down  on  the  peach  —  pity  it  decays  so 
soon!  The  fruit  remains,  but  the  first  high  colouring 
and  exquisite  flavour  are  gone.  Never  put  up  thy  lip 
for  the  matter,  Chiffinch,  for  it  is  as  I  tell  you;  so  pray 
let  us  have  la  belle  cousijie.' 

Mistress  Chiffinch,  more  embarrassed  than  ever, 
again  advanced  towards  the  door  of  communication, 
which  she  had  been  in  the  act  of  opening  when  his  Ma- 
jesty entered.  But  just  as  she  coughed  pretty  loudly, 
perhaps  as  a  signal  to  some  one  within,  voices  were  again 
heard  in  a  raised  tone  of  altercation ;  the  door  was  flung 
open,  and  Alice  rushed  out  of  the  inner  apartment,  fol- 
lowed to  the  door  of  it  by  the  enterprising  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  who  stood  fixed  with  astonishment  on 
finding  his  pursuit  of  the  flying  fair  one  had  hurried  him 
into  the  presence  of  the  King. 

Alice  Bridgenorth  appeared  too  much  transported 
with  anger  to  permit  her  to  pay  attention  to  the  rank  or 
character  of  the  company  into  which  she  had  thus  sud- 
denly entered.  *I  remain  no  longer  here,  madam,'  she 
said  to  Mrs.  Chifiinch,  in  a  tone  of  uncontrollable  re- 
solution; *I  leave  instantly  a  house  where  I  am  exposed 
to  company  which  I  detest,  and  to  solicitations  which  I 
despise.' 

IS7 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  dismayed  Mistress  Chifiiiich  could  only  implore 
her,  in  broken  whispers,  to  be  silent;  adding,  while  she 
pointed  to  Charles,  who  stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  rather 
on  his  audacious  courtier  than  on  the  game  which  he 
pursued,  'The  King  —  the  King!' 

*If  I  am  in  the  King's  presence,'  said  Alice,  aloud,  and 
in  the  same  torrent  of  passionate  feeling,  while  her  eyes 
sparkled  through  tears  of  resentment  and  insulted 
modesty,  'it  is  the  better;  it  is  his  Majesty's  duty 
to  protect  me,  and  on  his  protection  I  throw  my- 
self.' 

These  words,  which  were  spoken  aloud  and  boldly,  at 
once  recalled  Julian  to  himself,  who  had  hitherto  stood, 
as  it  were,  bewildered.  He  approached  Alice,  and  whis- 
pering in  her  ear  that  she  had  beside  her  one  who  would 
defend  her  with  his  life,  implored  her  to  trust  to  his 
guardianship  in  this  emergency. 

Clinging  to  his  arm  in  all  the  ecstasy  of  gratitude  and 
joy,  the  spirit  which  had  so  lately  invigorated  Alice  in 
her  own  defence  gave  way  in  a  flood  of  tears,  when  she 
saw  herself  supported  by  him  whom  perhaps  she  most 
wished  to  recognise  as  her  protector.  She  permitted 
Peveril  gently  to  draw  her  back  towards  the  screen  be- 
fore which  he  had  been  standing;  where,  holding  by  his 
arm,  but  at  the  same  time  endeavouring  to  conceal  her- 
self behind  him,  they  waited  the  conclusion  of  a  scene 
so  singular. 

The  King  seemed  at  first  so  much  surprised  at  the  un- 
expected apparition  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  as  to 
pay  little  or  no  attention  to  Alice,  who  had  been  the 
means  of  thus  unceremoniously  introducing  his  Grace 
into  the  presence  at  a  most  unsuitable  moment.  In  that 

158 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

intriguing  court,  it  had  not  been  the  first  time  that  the 
duke  had  ventured  to  enter  the  lists  of  gallantry  in  ri- 
valry of  his  sovereign,  which  made  the  present  insult  the 
more  intolerable.  His  purpose  of  lying  concealed  in  these 
private  apartments  was  explained  by  the  exclamations  of 
Alice;  and  Charles,  notwithstanding  the  placidity  of 
his  disposition,  and  his  habitual  guard  over  his  pas- 
sions, resented  the  attempt  to  seduce  his  destined  mis- 
tress, as  an  Eastern  sultan  would  have  done  the  insolence 
of  a  vizier,  who  anticipated  his  intended  purchases  of 
captive  beauty  in  the  slave  market.  The  swarthy  fea- 
tures of  Charles  reddened,  and  the  strong  lines  of  his 
dark  visage  seemed  to  become  inflated,  as  he  said,  in  a 
voice  which  faltered  with  passion,  'Buckingham,  you 
dared  not  have  thus  insulted  your  equal !  To  your  mas- 
ter you  may  securely  offer  any  affront,  since  his  rank 
glues  his  sword  to  the  scabbard.' 

The  haughty  duke  did  not  brook  this  taunt  unan- 
swered. *My  sword, 'he  said,  with  emphasis,  'was  never 
in  the  scabbard  when  your  Majesty's  service  required  it 
should  be  unsheathed.' 

'Your  Grace  means,  when  its  service  was  required  for 
Its  master's  interest,'  said  the  King;  'for  you  could  only 
gain  the  coronet  of  a  duke  by  fighting  for  the  royal  crown. 
But  it  is  over;  I  have  treated  you  as  a  friend  —  a  com- 
panion —  almost  an  equal  —  you  have  repaid  me  with 
insolence  and  ingratitude.' 

'Sire,'  answered  the  duke,  firmly,  but  respectfully, 
*I  am  unhappy  in  your  displeasure;  yet  thus  far  fortu- 
nate, that,  while  your  words  can  confer  honour,  they 
cannot  impair  or  take  it  away.  It  is  hard,'  he  added, 
lowering  his  voice  so  as  only  to  be  heard  by  the  king — 'it 

159 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

is  hard  that  the  squall  of  a  peevish  wench  should  cancel 
the  services  of  so  many  years ! ' 

*It  is  harder,'  said  the  King,  in  the  same  subdued 
tone,  which  both  preserved  through  the  rest  of  the 
conversation,  'that  a  wench's  bright  eyes  can  make  a 
nobleman  forget  the  decencies  due  to  his  sovereign's 
privacy.' 

'May  I  presume  to  ask  your  Majesty  what  decencies 
are  those? '  said  the  duke. 

Charles  bit  his  lip  to  keep  himself  from  smiling. 
'Buckingham,'  he  said,  'this  is  a  foolish  business;  and 
we  must  not  forget,  as  we  have  nearly  done,  that  we  have 
an  audience  to  witness  this  scene,  and  should  walk  the 
stage  with  dignity.  I  will  show  you  your  fault  in  pri- 
vate.' 

'  It  is  enough  that  your  Majesty  has  been  displeased, 
and  that  I  have  unhappily  been  the  occasion,'  said  the 
duke,  kneeling,  'although  quite  ignorant  of  any  purpose 
beyond  a  few  words  of  gallantry;  and  I  sue  thus  low  for 
your  Majesty's  pardon.' 

So  saying,  he  kneeled  gracefully  down.  'Thou  hast  it, 
George,'  said  the  placable  prince.  'I  believe  thou  wilt 
be  sooner  tired  of  ofifending  than  I  of  forgiving.' 

'Long  may  your  Majesty  live  to  give  the  offence  with 
which  it  is  your  royal  pleasure  at  present  to  charge  my 
innocence,'  said  the  duke. 

'What  mean  you  by  that,  my  lord?'  said  Charles, 
the  angry  shade  returning  to  his  brow  for  a  moment. 

'My  liege,'  replied  the  duke,  'you  are  too  honourable 
to  deny  your  custom  of  shooting  with  Cupid's  bird- 
bolts  in  other  men's  warrens.  You  have  ta'en  the  royal 
right  of  free  forestry  over  every  man's  park.  It  is  hard 

1 60 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

that  you  should  be  so  much  displeased  at  hearing  a 
chance  arrow  whizz  near  your  own  pales.' 

*No  more  on't/  said  the  King;  'but  let  us  see  where 
the  dove  has  harboured.' 

'  The  Helen  has  found  a  Paris  while  we  were  quarrel- 
ling,' rephed  the  duke. 

'Rather  an  Orpheus/  said  the  King;  'and,  what  is 
worse,  one  that  is  already  provided  with  a  Eurydice. 
She  is  clinging  to  the  fiddler.' 

'It  is  mere  fright,'  said  Buckingham,  'like Rochester's, 
when  he  crept  into  the  bass-viol  to  hide  himself  from  Sir 
Dermot  O'Cleaver.' 

'We  must  make  the  people  show  their  talents,'  said 
the  King,  'and  stop  their  mouths  with  money  and  civil- 
ity, or  we  shall  have  this  foolish  encounter  over  half  the 
town.' 

The  King  then  approached  Julian,  and  desired  him 
to  take  his  instrument  and  cause  his  female  companion 
to  perform  a  saraband. 

'I  had  already  the  honour  to  inform  your  Majesty,' 
said  Julian,  'that  I  cannot  contribute  to  your  pleasure 
in  the  way  you  command  me;  and  that  this  young  per- 
son is  — ' 

*A  retainer  of  the  Lady  Powis,'  said  the  King,  upon 
whose  mind  things  not  connected  with  his  pleasures  made 
a  very  slight  impression.  'Poor  lady,  she  is  in  trouble 
about  the  lords  in  the  Tower.' 

'Pardon  me,  sir,'  said  Julian,  'she  is  a  dependant  of  the 
Countess  of  Derby.' 

'True  —  true,'  answered  Charles;  'it  is  indeed  of  Lady 
Derby,  who  hath  also  her  own  distresses  in  these  times. 
Do  you  know  who  taught  the  young  person  to  dance? 
28  i6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Some  of  her  steps  mightily  resemble  Le  Jeune's  of 
Paris.' 

*I  presume  she  was  taught  abroad,  sir,'  said  Julian; 
*for  myself,  I  am  charged  with  some  weighty  business 
by  the  countess,  which  I  would  willingly  communicate 
to  your  Majesty.' 

*We  will  send  you  to  our  Secretary  of  State,'  said  the 
King.  'But  this  dancing  envoy  will  oblige  us  once  more, 
will  she  not?  Empson,  now  that  I  remember,  it  was  to 
your  pipe  that  she  danced.  Strike  up,  man,  and  put 
mettle  into  her  feet.' 

Empson  began  to  play  a  well-known  measure;  and,  as 
he  had  threatened,  made  more  than  one  false  note,  until 
the  King,  whose  ear  was  very  accurate,  rebuked  him 
with,  'Sirrah,  art  thou  drunk  at  this  early  hour,  or  must 
thou  too  be  placing  thy  slippery  tricks  with  me?  Thou 
thinkest  thou  art  born  to  beat  time,  but  I  will  have  time 
beat  into  thee.' 

The  hint  was  sufficient,  and  Empson  took  good  care 
so  to  perform  his  air  as  to  merit  his  high  and  deserved 
reputation.  But  on  Fenella  it  made  not  the  slightest  im- 
pression. She  rather  leant  than  stood  against  the  wall  of 
the  apartment,  her  countenance  as  pale  as  death,  her 
arms  and  hands  hanging  down  as  if  stiffened,  and  her 
existence  only  testified  by  the  sobs  which  agitated  her 
bosom  and  the  tears  which  flowed  from  her  half-closed 
eyes. 

*A  plague  on  it,'  said  the  King,  'some  evil  spirit  is 
abroad  this  morning,  and  the  wenches  are  all  bewitched, 
I  think.  Cheer  up,  my  girl.  What,  in  the  devil's  name, 
has  changed  thee  at  once  from  a  n>Tnph  to  a  Niobe?  If 
thou  standest  there  longer,  thou  wilt  grow  to  the  very 

162 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

marble  wall.  Or — odds-fish,  George,  have  you  been  bird- 
bolting  in  this  quarter  also?' 

Ere  Buckingham  could  answer  to  this  charge,  Julian 
again  kneeled  down  to  the  King,  and  prayed  to  be  heard, 
were  it  only  for  five  minutes.  'The  young  woman,'  he 
said,  'had  been  long  in  attendance  on  the  Countess  of 
Derby.  She  was  bereaved  of  the  faculties  of  speech  and 
hearing.' 

'Odds-fish,  man,  and  dances  so  well?'  said  the  King. 
'Nay,  all  Gresham  College  shall  never  make  me  believe 
that.' 

*I  would  have  thought  it  equally  impossible  but  for 
what  I  to-day  witnessed,'  said  Julian;  'but  only  permit 
me,  sir,  to  deliver  the  petition  of  my  lady  the  countess.' 

'And  who  art  thou  thyself,  man?'  said  the  sovereign; 
'for,  though  everything  which  wears  bodice  and  breast- 
knot  has  a  right  to  speak  to  a  king  and  be  answered,  I 
know  not  that  they  have  a  title  to  audience  through  an 
envoy  extraordinary.' 

'  I  am  Julian  Peveril  of  Derbyshire,'  answered  the  sup- 
plicant, 'the  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  Martindale 
Castle,  who  — ' 

'Body  of  me — the  old  Worcester  man?'  said  the 
King.  'Odds-fish,  I  remember  him  well;  some  harm  has 
happened  to  him,  I  think.  Is  he  not  dead,  or  very  sick 
at  least? ' 

'  111  at  ease,  and  it  please  your  Majesty,  but  not  ill  in 
health.  He  has  been  imprisoned  on  account  of  alleged 
accession  to  this  Plot.' 

'Look  you  there,'  said  the  King,  'I  knew  he  was  in 
trouble ;  and  yet  how  to  help  the  stout  old  knight  I  can 
hardly  tell.    I  can  scarce  escape  suspicion  of  the  Plot 

163 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

myself,  though  the  principal  object  of  it  is  to  take  away 
my  own  life.  Were  I  to  stir  to  save  a  plotter,  I  should 
certainly  be  brought  in  as  an  accessary.  Buckingham, 
thou  hast  some  interest  with  those  who  built  this  fine 
state  engine,  or  at  least  who  have  driven  it  on  —  be 
good-natured  for  once,  though  it  is  scarcely  thy  wont, 
and  interfere  to  shelter  our  old  Worcester  friend,  Sir 
Godfrey.   You  have  not  forgot  him?' 

*No,  sir,'  answered  the  duke;  'for  I  never  heard  the 
name.' 

'It  is  Sir  Geoffrey  his  Majesty  would  say,'  said  Julian. 

'And  if  his  Majesty  did  say  Sir  Geoffrey,  Master 
Peveril,  I  cannot  see  of  what  use  I  can  be  to  your  father,' 
replied  the  duke,  coldly.  '  He  is  accused  of  a  heavy  crime ; 
and  a  British  subject  so  accused  can  have  no  shelter 
either  from  prince  or  peer,  but  must  stand  to  the  award 
and  deliverance  of  God  and  his  country.' 

'Now,  Heaven  forgive  thee  thy  hypocrisy,  George,' 
said  the  King,  hastily.  'I  would  rather  hear  the  devil 
preach  religion  than  thee  teach  patriotism.  Thou  know- 
est  as  well  as  I  that  the  nation  is  in  a  scarlet  fever  for 
fear  of  the  poor  Catholics,  who  are  not  two  men  to  five 
hundred;  and  that  the  public  mind  is  so  harassed  with 
new  narrations  of  conspiracy,  and  fresh  horrors  every 
day,  that  people  have  as  little  real  sense  of  what  is  just 
or  unjust  as  men  who  talk  in  their  sleep  of  what  is  sense 
or  nonsense.  I  have  borne  and  borne  with  it;  I  have  seen 
blood  flow  on  the  scaffold,  fearing  to  thwart  the  nation 
in  its  fury;  and  I  pray  to  God  that  I  or  mine  be  not 
called  on  to  answer  for  it.  I  will  no  longer  swim  with 
the  torrent,  which  honour  and  conscience  call  upon  me 
to  stem:  I  will  act  the  part  of  a  sovereign,  and  save 

164 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

my  people  from  doing  injustice,  even  in  their  own 
despite.' 

Charles  walked  hastily  up  and  down  the  room  as  he 
expressed  these  unwonted  sentiments,  with  energy 
equally  unwonted.  After  a  momentary  pause,  the  duke 
answered  him  gravely,  'Spoken  like  a  royal  king,  sir; 
but  —  pardon  me  —  not  like  a  king  of  England.' 

Charles  paused,  as  the  duke  spoke,  beside  a  window 
which  looked  full  on  Whitehall,  and  his  eye  was  invol- 
untarily attracted  by  the  fatal  window  of  the  Banquet- 
ing House,  out  of  which  his  unhappy  father  was  con- 
ducted to  execution.  Charles  was  naturally,  or,  more 
properly,  constitutionally,  brave;  but  a  life  of  pleasure, 
together  with  the  habit  of  governing  his  course  rather 
by  what  was  expedient  than  by  what  was  right,  rendered 
him  unapt  to  dare  the  same  scene  of  danger  or  of  mar- 
tyrdom which  had  closed  his  father's  life  and  reign;  and 
the  thought  came  over  his  half-formed  resolution  like 
the  rain  upon  a  kindling  beacon.  In  another  man,  his 
perplexity  would  have  seemed  almost  ludicrous;  but 
Charles  could  not  lose,  even  under  these  circumstances, 
the  dignity  and  grace  which  were  as  natural  to  him  as 
his  indifference  and  his  good-humour.  '  Our  council  must 
decide  in  this  matter,'  he  said,  looking  to  the  duke;  'and 
be  assured,  young  man,'  he  added,  addressing  Julian, 
*your  father  shall  not  want  an  intercessor  in  his  king, 
so  far  as  the  laws  will  permit  my  interference  in  his  be- 
half.' 

Julian  was  about  to  retire,  when  Fenella,  with  a 
marked  look,  put  into  his  hand  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which 
she  had  hastily  written,  'The  packet  —  give  him  the 
packet.' 

165 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  during  which  he  reflected 
that  Fenella  was  the  organ  of  the  countess's  pleasure, 
Julian  resolved  to  obey.  'Permit  me,  then,  sire,'  he  said, 
'to  place  in  your  royal  hands  this  packet,  entrusted  to 
me  by  the  Countess  of  Derby,  The  letters  have  already 
been  once  taken  from  me;  and  I  have  little  hope  that 
I  can  now  deliver  them  as  they  are  addressed.  I  place 
them,  therefore,  in  your  royal  hands,  certain  that  they 
will  evince  the  innocence  of  the  writer.' 

The  King  shook  his  head  as  he  took  the  packet  reluc- 
tantly. *  It  is  no  safe  office  you  have  undertaken,  young 
man.  A  messenger  has  sometimes  his  throat  cut  for  the 
sake  of  his  despatches.  But  give  them  to  me;  and,  Chif- 
finch,  give  me  wax  and  a  taper.'  He  employed  himself 
in  folding  the  countess's  packet  in  another  envelope. 
'Buckingham,'  he  said,  'you  are  evidence  that  I  do  not 
read  them  till  the  council  shall  see  them.' 

Buckingham  approached,  and  offered  his  services  in 
folding  the  parcel,  but  Charles  rejected  his  assistance; 
and  having  finished  his  task,  he  sealed  the  packet  with 
his  own  signet-ring. 

The  duke  bit  his  lip  and  retired. 

'And  now,  young  man,'  said  the  King,  'your  errand 
is  sped,  so  far  as  it  can  at  present  be  forwarded.' 

Julian  bowed  deeply,  as  to  take  leave  at  these  words, 
which  he  rightly  interpreted  as  a  signal  for  his  depart- 
ure. Alice  Bridgenorth  still  clung  to  his  arm,  and  mo- 
tioned to  withdraw  along  with  him.  The  King  and 
Buckingham  looked  at  each  other  in  conscious  astonish- 
ment, and  yet  not  without  a  desire  to  smile,  so  strange 
did  it  seem  to  them  that  a  prize,  for  which,  an  instant 
before,  they  had  been  mutually  contending,  should  thus 

1 66 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

glide  out  of  their  grasp,  or  rather  be  borne  off  by  a  third 
and  very  inferior  competitor. 

'Mistress  Chifi&nch/  said  the  King,  with  a  hesitation 
which  he  could  not  disguise,  '  I  hope  your  fair  charge  is 
not  about  to  leave  you?' 

'Certainly  not,  your  Majesty,'  answered  Chiffinch. 
'Alice,  my  love,  you  mistake;  that  opposite  door  leads  to 
your  apartments,' 

'Pardon  me,  madam,'  answered  Alice;  'I  have  indeed 
mistaken  my  road,  but  it  was  when  I  came  hither.' 

'The  errant  damozel,'  said  Buckingham,  looking  at 
Charles  with  as  much  intelligence  as  etiquette  permitted 
him  to  throw  into  his  eye,  and  then  turning  it  towards 
Alice,  as  she  still  held  by  Julian's  arm,  'is  resolved  not 
to  mistake  her  road  a  second  time.  She  has  chosen  a 
sufficient  guide,' 

'And  yet  stories  tell  that  such  guides  have  led  maidens 
astray,'  said  the  King, 

Alice  blushed  deeply,  but  instantly  recovered  her 
composure  so  soon  as  she  saw  that  her  liberty  was  likely 
to  depend  upon  the  immediate  exercise  of  resolution. 
She  quitted,  from  a  sense  of  insulted  delicacy,  the  arm 
of  Julian,  to  which  she  had  hitherto  clung;  but  as  she 
spoke  she  continued  to  retain  a  slight  grasp  of  his  cloak. 
'I  have  indeed  mistaken  my  way,'  she  repeated,  still  ad- 
dressing Mistress  Chiffinch,  'but  it  was  when  I  crossed 
this  threshold.  The  usage  to  which  I  have  been  exposed 
in  your  house  has  determined  me  to  quit  it  instantly.' 

'I  will  not  permit  that,  my  young  mistress,'  answered 
Chiffinch,  'until  your  uncle,  who  placed  you  under  my 
care,  shall  relieve  me  of  the  charge  of  you,' 

'  I  will  answer  for  my  conduct  both  to  my  uncle  and, 
167 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

what  is  of  more  importance,  to  my  father/  said  Alice. 
'You  must  permit  me  to  depart,  madam;  I  am  free-born, 
and  you  have  no  right  to  detain  me.' 

'Pardon  me,  my  young  madam,'  said  Mistress  Chif- 
finch,  *I  have  a  right,  and  I  will  maintain  it  too.' 

'I  will  know  that  before  quitting  this  presence,'  said 
Alice,  firmly;  and,  advancing  a  step  or  two,  she  dropped 
on  her  knee  before  the  King.  'Your  Majesty,'  said  she, 
'if  indeed  I  kneel  before  King  Charles,  is  the  father  of 
your  subjects.' 

'Of  a  good  many  of  them,'  said  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, apart. 

'I  demand  protection  of  you,  in  the  name  of  God  and 
of  the  oath  your  Majesty  swore  when  you  placed  on 
your  head  the  crown  of  this  kingdom ! ' 

'You  have  my  protection,'  said  the  King,  a  little  con- 
fused by  an  appeal  so  unexpected  and  so  solemn.  'Do 
but  remain  quiet  with  this  lady,  with  whom  your  par- 
ents have  placed  you;  neither  Buckingham  nor  any 
one  else  shall  intrude  on  you.' 

'His  Majesty,'  added  Buckingham,  in  the  same  tone, 
and  speaking  from  the  restless  and  mischief-making 
spirit  of  contradiction,  which  he  never  could  restrain, 
even  when  indulging  it  was  most  contrary  not  only  to 
propriety,  but  to  his  own  interest  —  '  his  Majesty  will 
protect  you,  fair  lady,  from  all  intrusion  save  what 
must  not  be  termed  such.' 

Alice  darted  a  keen  look  on  the  duke,  as  if  to  read  his 
meaning;  another  on  Charles,  to  know  whether  she  had 
guessed  it  rightly.  There  was  a  guilty  confession  on  the 
King's  brow,  which  confirmed  Alice's  determination  to 
depart.    'Your  Majesty  will  forgive  me,'  she  said;  'it 

1 68 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

is  not  here  that  I  can  enjoy  the  advantage  of  your  royal 
protection.  I  am  resolved  to  leave  this  house.  If  I  am 
detained,  it  must  be  by  violence,  which  I  trust  no  one 
dare  ofifer  me  in  your  Majesty's  presence.  This  gentle- 
man, whom  I  have  long  known,  will  conduct  me  to  my 
friends.' 

*We  make  but  an  indifferent  figure  in  this  scene,  me- 
thinks,'  said  the  King,  addressing  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, and  speaking  in  a  whisper;  'but  she  must  go.  I 
neither  will  nor  dare  stop  her  from  returning  to  her 
father.' 

'And  if  she  does,'  swore  the  duke  internally,  'I  would, 
as  Sir  Andrew  saith,  I  might  never  touch  fair  lady's 
hand.'  And  stepping  back,  he  spoke  a  few  words  with 
Empson,  the  musician,  who  left  the  apartment  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  presently  returned. 

The  King  seemed  irresolute  concerning  the  part  he 
should  act  under  circumstances  so  peculiar.  To  be 
foiled  in  a  gallant  intrigue  was  to  subject  himself  to  the 
ridicule  of  his  gay  court;  to  persist  in  it  by  any  means 
which  approached  to  constraint  would  have  been  ty- 
rannical; and,  what  perhaps  he  might  judge  as  severe 
an  imputation,  it  would  have  been  unbecoming  a  gentle- 
man. 'Upon  my  honour,  young  lady,'  he  said,  with  an 
emphasis,  'you  have  nothing  to  fear  in  this  house.  But 
it  is  improper,  for  your  own  sake,  that  you  should  leave 
it  in  this  abrupt  manner.  If  you  will  have  the  goodness 
to  wait  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Mistress  Chiffinch's 
coach  will  be  placed  at  your  command,  to  transport  you 
where  you  will.  Spare  yourself  the  ridicule,  and  me  the 
pain,  of  seeing  you  leave  the  house  of  one  of  my  servants 
as  if  you  were  escaping  from  a  prison.' 

169 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  King  spoke  in  good-natured  sincerity,  and  Alice 
was  inclined  for  an  instant  to  listen  to  his  advice;  but 
recollecting  that  she  had  to  search  for  her  father  and 
uncle,  or,  failing  them,  for  some  suitable  place  of  secure 
residence,  it  rushed  on  her  mind  that  the  attendants  of 
Mistress  ChifiBinch  were  not  likely  to  prove  trusty  guides 
or  assistants  in  such  a  purpose.  Firmly  and  respectfully 
she  announced  her  purpose  of  instant  departure.  She 
needed  no  other  escort,  she  said,  than  what  this  gentle- 
man. Master  Julian  Peveril,  who  was  well  known  to  her 
father,  would  willingly  afford  her;  nor  did  she  need  that 
farther  than  until  she  had  reached  her  father's  residence. 

'Farewell,  then,  lady,  a  God's  name!'  said  the  King. 
*I  am  sorry  so  much  beauty  should  be  wedded  to  so  many 
shrewish  suspicions.  For  you.  Master  Peveril,  I  should 
have  thought  you  had  enough  to  do  with  your  own  af- 
fairs, without  interfering  with  the  humours  of  the  fair 
sex.  The  duty  of  conducting  all  strayed  damsels  into  the 
right  path  is,  as  matters  go  in  this  good  city,  rather  too 
weighty  an  undertaking  for  your  youth  and  inexperi- 
ence.' 

Julian,  eager  to  conduct  Alice  safe  from  a  place  of 
which  he  began  fully  to  appreciate  the  perils,  answered 
nothing  to  this  taunt,  but,  bowing  reverently,  led  her 
from  the  apartment.  Her  sudden  appearance,  and 
the  animated  scene  which  followed,  had  entirely  ab- 
sorbed, for  the  moment,  the  recollection  of  his  father 
and  of  the  Countess  of  Derby;  and  while  the  dumb 
attendant  of  the  latter  remained  in  the  room,  a  si- 
lent and,  as  it  were,  stunned  spectator  of  all  that  had 
happened,  Peveril  had  become,  in  the  predominating  in- 
terest of  Alice's  critical  situation,  totally  forgetful  of  her 

170 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

presence.  But  no  sooner  had  he  left  the  room,  without 
noticing  or  attending  to  her,  than  Fenella,  starting  as 
from  a  trance,  drew  herself  up  and  looked  wildly  around, 
like  one  waking  from  a  dream,  as  if  to  assure  herself  that 
her  companion  was  gone,  and  gone  without  paying  the 
slightest  attention  to  her.  She  folded  her  hands  together, 
and  cast  her  eyes  upwards  with  an  expression  of  such 
agony  as  explained  to  Charles,  as  he  thought,  what 
painful  ideas  were  passing  in  her  mind.  'This  Peveril 
is  a  perfect  pattern  of  successful  perfidy,'  said  the  King: 
*he  has  not  only  succeeded  at  first  sight  in  carrying  off 
this  queen  of  the  amazons,  but  he  has  left  us,  I  think,  a 
disconsolate  Ariadne  in  her  place.  But  weep  not,  my 
princess  of  pretty  movements,'  he  said,  addressing  him- 
self to  Fenella;  'if  we  cannot  call  in  Bacchus  to  console 
you,  we  will  commit  you  to  the  care  of  Empson,  who 
shall  drink  with  Liher  Pater  for  a  thousand  pounds,  and 
I  will  say  done  first.' 

As  the  King  spoke  these  words,  Fenella  rushed  past  him 
with  her  wonted  rapidity  of  step,  and,  with  much  less 
courtesy  than  was  due  to  the  royal  presence,  hurried 
downstairs  and  out  of  the  house,without  attempting  to 
open  any  communication  with  the  monarch.  He  saw  her 
abrupt  departure  with  more  surprise  than  displeasure ; 
and  presently  afterwards,  bursting  into  a  fit  of  laughter, 
he  said  to  the  duke,  'Odds-fish,  George,  this  young  spark 
might  teach  the  best  of  us  how  to  manage  the  wenches. 
I  have  had  my  own  experience,  but  I  could  never  yet 
contrive  either  to  win  or  lose  them  with  so  little  cere- 
mony.' 

'Experience,  sir,'  replied  the  duke,  'cannot  be  ac- 
quired without  years.' 

171 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'True,  George;  and  you  would,  I  suppose,  insinuate,' 
said  Charles,  'that  the  gallant  who  acquires  it  loses  as 
much  in  youth  as  he  gains  in  art?  I  defy  your  insinu- 
ation, George.  You  cannot  overreach  your  master,  old 
as  you  think  him,  either  in  love  or  poHtics.  You  have 
not  the  secret  plumer  la  poule  sans  la  faire  crier  —  wit- 
ness this  morning's  work.  I  will  give  you  odds  at  all 
games  —  ay,  and  at  the  Mall  too,  if  thou  darest  accept 
my  challenge.  Chiffinch,  what  for  dost  thou  convulse 
thy  pretty  throat  and  face  with  sobbing  and  hatching 
tears,  which  seem  rather  unwilling  to  make  their  appear- 
ance? ' 

*It  is  for  fear,'  whined  Chiffinch,  'that  your  Majesty 
should  think  —  that  you  should  expect  — ' 

'That  I  should  expect  gratitude  from  a  courtier,  or 
faith  from  a  woman?'  answered  the  King,  patting  her  at 
the  same  time  under  the  chin,  to  make  her  raise  her  face. 
'Tush!  chicken,  I  am  not  so  superfluous.' 

'There  it  is  now,'  said  Chiffinch,  continuing  to  sob 
the  more  bitterly,  as  she  felt  herself  unable  to  produce 
any  tears;  'I  see  your  Majesty  is  determined  to  lay  all 
the  blame  on  me,  when  I  am  innocent  as  an  unborn 
babe;  I  will  be  judged  by  his  Grace.' 

'No  doubt  —  no  doubt,  Chiffie,'  said  the  King.  'His 
Grace  and  you  will  be  excellent  judges  in  each  other's 
cause,  and  as  good  witnesses  in  each  other's  favour.  But 
to  investigate  the  matter  impartially,  we  must  examine 
our  evidence  apart.  My  lord  duke,  we  meet  at  the  Mall 
at  noon,  if  your  Grace  dare  accept  my  challenge.* 

His  Grace  of  Buckingham  bowed  and  retired. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

But  when  the  bully,  with  assuming  pace, 

Cocks  his  broad  hat,  edged  round  with  tarnish 'd  lace. 

Yield  not  the  way;  defy  his  strutting  pride. 

And  thrust  him  to  the  muddy  kennel's  side.   .  .  . 

Yet  rather  bear  the  shower,  and  toils  of  mud, 

Than  in  the  doubtful  quarrel  risk  thy  blood. 

Gay's  Trivia. 

Julian  Peveril,  half-leading,  half-supporting  Alice 
Bridgenorth,  had  reached  the  middle  of  St.  James's 
Street  ere  the  doubt  occurred  to  him  which  way  they 
should  bend  their  course.  He  then  asked  Alice  whither 
he  should  conduct  her,  and  learned,  to  his  surprise  and 
embarrassment,  that,  far  from  knowing  where  her 
father  was  to  be  found,  she  had  no  certain  knowledge 
that  he  was  in  London,  and  only  hoped  that  he  had  ar- 
rived, from  the  expressions  which  he  had  used  at  part- 
ing. She  mentioned  her  uncle  Christian's  address,  but 
it  was  with  doubt  and  hesitation,  arising  from  the  hands 
in  which  he  had  already  placed  her;  and  her  reluctance  to 
go  again  under  his  protection  was  strongly  confirmed  by 
her  youthful  guide,  when  a  few  words  had  established  to 
his  conviction  the  identity  of  Ganlesse  and  Christian. 
What  then  was  to  be  done? ' 

'Alice,'  said  Julian,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  'you 
must  seek  your  earliest  and  best  friend;  I  mean  my 
mother.  She  has  now  no  castle  in  which  to  receive  you; 
she  has  but  a  miserable  lodging,  so  near  the  jail  in  which 
my  father  is  confined  that  it  seems  almost  a  cell  of  the 
same  prison.  I  have  not  seen  her  since  my  coming  hither; 

173 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

but  thus  much  have  I  learned  by  inquiry.  We  will  now 
go  to  her  apartment;  such  as  it  is,  I  know  she  will  share 
it  with  one  so  innocent  and  so  unprotected  as  you 
are.' 

'Gracious  Heaven!'  said  the  poor  girl,  'am  I  then  so 
totally  deserted,  that  I  must  throw  myself  on  the  mercy 
of  her  who,  of  all  the  world,  has  most  reason  to  spurn  me 
from  her?  Julian,  can  you  advise  me  to  this?  Is  there 
none  else  who  will  afford  me  a  few  hours'  refuge,  till  I 
can  hear  from  my  father?  —  no  other  protectress  but 
her  whose  ruin  has,  I  fear,  been  accelerated  by  —  Ju- 
lian, I  dare  not  appear  before  your  mother!  She  must 
hate  me  for  my  family,  and  despise  me  for  my  mean- 
ness. To  be  a  second  time  cast  on  her  protection,  when 
the  first  has  been  so  evil  repaid !  Julian,  I  dare  not  go 
with  you ! ' 

'She  has  never  ceased  to  love  you,  Alice,'  said  her 
conductor,  whose  steps  she  continued  to  attend,  even 
while  declaring  her  resolution  not  to  go  with  him:  'she 
never  felt  anything  but  kindness  towards  you,  nay, 
towards  your  father;  for  though  his  dealings  with  us  have 
been  harsh,  she  can  allow  much  for  the  provocation 
which  he  has  received.  Beheve  me,  with  her  you  will  be 
safe  as  with  a  mother  —  perhaps  may  be  the  means  of 
reconciling  the  divisions  by  which  we  have  suffered  so 
much.' 

'Might  God  grant  it!'  said  AHce.  'Yet  how  shall  I 
face  your  mother?  And  will  she  be  able  to  protect  me 
against  these  powerful  men  —  against  my  uncle  Chris- 
tian? Alas,  that  I  must  call  him  my  worst  enemy!' 

'She  has  the  ascendency  which  honour  hath  over  in- 
famy, and  virtue  over  vice,'  said  Julian;  'and  to  no  hu- 

174- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

man  power  but  your  father's  will  she  resign  you,  if  you 
consent  to  choose  her  for  your  protectress.  Come,  then, 
with  me,  Alice;  and  — ' 

Julian  was  interrupted  by  some  one,  who,  laying  an 
unceremonious  hold  of  his  cloak,  pulled  it  with  so  much 
force  as  compelled  him  to  stop  and  lay  his  hand  on  his 
sword.  He  turned  at  the  same  time,  and,  when  he  turned, 
beheld  Fenella.  The  cheek  of  the  mute  glowed  like  fire, 
her  eyes  sparkled,  and  her  lips  were  forcibly  drawn  to- 
gether, as  if  she  had  difficulty  to  repress  those  wild 
screams  which  usually  attended  her  agonies  of  passion, 
and  which,  uttered  in  the  open  street,  must  instantly 
have  collected  a  crowd.  As  it  was,  her  appearance  was 
so  singular,  and  her  emotion  so  evident,  that  men  gazed 
as  they  came  on,  and  looked  back  after  they  had  passed, 
at  the  singular  vivacity  of  her  gestures;  while,  holding 
Peveril's  cloak  with  one  hand,  she  made,  with  the  other, 
the  most  eager  and  imperious  signs  that  he  should  leave 
Alice  Bridgenorth  and  follow  her.  She  touched  the 
plume  in  her  bonnet,  to  remind  him  of  the  earl;  pointed 
to  her  heart,  to  intimate  the  countess;  raised  her  closed 
hand,  as  if  to  command  him  in  their  name;  and  next 
moment  folded  both,  as  if  to  supplicate  him  in  her  own; 
while,  pointing  to  Alice  with  an  expression  at  once  of 
angry  and  scornful  derision,  she  waved  her  hand  repeat- 
edly and  disdainfully,  to  intimate  that  Peveril  ought  to 
cast  her  off,  as  something  undeserving  his  protection. 

Frightened,  she  knew  not  why,  at  these  wild  gestures, 
Alice  clung  closer  to  Julian's  arm  than  she  had  at  first 
dared  to  do;  and  this  mark  of  confidence  in  his  protec- 
tion seemed  to  increase  the  passion  of  Fenella. 

Julian  was  dreadfully  embarrassed;  his  situation  was 

175 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sufficiently  precarious,  even  before  Fenella's  ungovern- 
able passions  threatened  to  ruin  the  only  plan  which  he 
had  been  able  to  suggest.  What  she  wanted  with  him  — 
how  far  the  fate  of  the  earl  and  countess  might  depend 
on  his  following  her,  he  could  not  even  conjecture;  but 
be  the  call  how  peremptory  soever,  he  resolved  not  to 
comply  with  it  until  he  had  seen  Alice  placed  in  safety. 
In  the  meantime,  he  determined  not  to  lose  sight  of 
Fenella;  and  disregarding  her  repeated,  disdainful,  and 
impetuous  rejection  of  the  hand  which  he  offered  her, 
he  at  length  seemed  so  far  to  have  soothed  her,  that  she 
seized  upon  his  right  arm,  and,  as  if  despairing  of  his 
following  her  path,  appeared  reconciled  to  attend  him 
on  that  which  he  himself  should  choose. 

Thus,  with  a  youthful  female  ch'nging  to  each  arm, 
and  both  remarkably  calculated  to  attract  the  public 
eye,  though  from  very  different  reasons,  Julian  resolved 
to  make  the  shortest  road  to  the  water-side,  and  there 
to  take  boat  for  Blackfriars,  as  the  nearest  point  of  land- 
ing to  Newgate,  where  he  concluded  that  Lance  had 
already  announced  his  arrival  in  London  to  Sir  Geoffrey, 
then  inhabiting  that  dismal  region,  and  to  his  lady,  who, 
so  far  as  the  jailor's  rigour  permitted,  shared  and  soft- 
ened his  imprisonment. 

Julian's  embarrassment  in  passing  Charing  Cross  and 
Northumberland  House  was  so  great  as  to  excite  the 
attention  of  the  passengers;  for  he  had  to  compose  his 
steps  so  as  to  moderate  the  unequal  and  rapid  pace  of 
Fenella  to  the  timid  and  faint  progress  of  his  left-hand 
companion;  and  while  it  would  have  been  needless  to 
address  himself  to  the  former,  who  could  not  compre- 
hend him,  he  dared  not  speak  himself  to  Alice,  for  fear 

176 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

of  awakening  into  frenzy  the  Jealousy,  or  at  least  the 
impatience,  of  Fenella. 

Many  passengers  looked  at  them  with  wonder,  and 
some  with  smiles;  but  Julian  remarked  that  there  were 
two  who  never  lost  sight  of  them,  and  to  whom  his  situa- 
tion, and  the  demeanour  of  his  companions,  seemed  to 
afford  matter  of  undisguised  merriment.  These  were 
young  men,  such  as  may  be  seen  in  the  same  precincts 
in  the  present  day,  allowing  for  the  difference  in  the 
fashion  of  their  apparel.  They  abounded  in  periwig,  and 
fluttered  with  many  hundred  yards  of  ribbon,  disposed 
in  bowknots  upon  their  sleeves,  their  breeches,  and  their 
waistcoats,  in  the  very  extremity  of  the  existing  mode. 
A  quantity  of  lace  and  embroidery  made  their  habits 
rather  fine  than  tasteful.  In  a  word,  they  were  dressed 
in  that  caricature  of  the  fashion  which  sometimes  denotes 
a  hare-brained  man  of  quality  who  has  a  mind  to  be  dis- 
tinguished as  a  fop  of  the  first  order,  but  is  much  more 
frequently  the  disguise  of  those  who  desire  to  be  es- 
teemed men  of  rank  on  account  of  their  dress,  having 
no  other  pretension  to  the  distinction. 

These  two  gallants  passed  Peveril  more  than  once, 
linked  arm-in-arm,  then  sauntered,  so  as  to  oblige  him 
to  pass  them  in  turn,  laughing  and  whispering  during 
these  manoeuvres,  staring  broadly  at  Peveril  and  his 
female  companions,  and  affording  them,  as  they  came 
into  contact,  none  of  those  facilities  of  giving  place  which 
are  required  on  such  occasions  by  the  ordinary  rules  of 
the  pave. 

Peveril  did  not  immediately  observe  their  imperti- 
nence; but  when  it  was  too  gross  to  escape  his  notice, 
his  gall  began  to  arise;  and,  in  addition  to  all  the  other 

28  177 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

embarrassments  of  his  situation,  he  had  to  combat  the 
longing  desire  which  he  felt  to  cudgel  handsomely  the 
two  coxcombs  who  seemed  thus  determined  on  insult- 
ing him.  Patience  and  sufferance  were  indeed  strongly 
imposed  on  him  by  circumstances;  but  at  length  it  be- 
came scarcely  possible  to  observe  their  dictates  any 
longer. 

When,  for  the  third  time,  Julian  found  himself  obliged, 
with  his  companions,  to  pass  this  troublesome  brace  of 
fops,  they  kept  walking  close  behind  him,  speaking  so 
loud  as  to  be  heard,  and  in  a  tone  of  perfect  indifference 
whether  he  hstened  to  them  or  not. 

'This  is  bumpkin's  best  luck,'  said  the  taller  of  the 
two,  who  was  indeed  a  man  of  remarkable  size,  alluding 
to  the  plainness  of  Peveril's  dress,  which  was  scarce  fit 
for  the  streets  of  London.  '  Two  such  fine  wenches,  and 
under  guard  of  a  grey  frock  and  an  oaken  riding-rod ! ' 

'Nay,  Puritan's  luck  rather,  and  more  than  enough  of 
it,'  said  his  companion.  'You  may  read  Puritan  in  his 
pace  and  in  his  patience.' 

'Right  as  a  pint  bumper,  Tom,'  said  his  friend. 
*Issachar  is  an  ass  that  stoopeth  between  two  burdens.' 

'I  have  a  mind  to  ease  long-eared  Laurence  of  one  of 
his  encumbrances,'  said  the  shorter  fellow.  'That  black- 
eyed  sparkler  looks  as  if  she  had  a  mind  to  run  away 
from  him.' 

*Ay,'  answered  the  taller,  'and  the  blue-eyed  trembler 
looks  as  if  she  would  fall  behind  into  my  loving  arms.' 

At  these  words,  Alice,  holding  still  closer  by  Peveril's 
arm  than  formerly,  mended  her  pace  almost  to  nmning, 
in  order  to  escape  from  men  whose  language  was  so  alarm- 
ing; and  Fenella  walked  hastily  forward  in  the  same 

178 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

manner,  having  perhaps  caught,  from  the  men's  gestures 
and  demeanour,  that  apprehension  which  Alice  had  taken 
from  their  language. 

Fearful  of  the  consequences  of  a  fray  in  the  streets, 
which  must  necessarily  separate  him  from  these  unpro- 
tected females,  Peveril  endeavoured  to  compound  be- 
twixt the  prudence  necessary  for  their  protection  and 
his  own  rising  resentment;  and  as  this  troublesome  pair 
of  attendants  endeavoured  again  to  pass  them  close  to 
Hungerford  Stairs,  he  said  to  them,  with  constrained 
calmness,  'Gentlemen,  I  owe  you  something  for  the 
attention  you  have  bestowed  on  the  affairs  of  a  stranger. 
If  you  have  any  pretension  to  the  name  I  have  given 
you,  you  will  tell  me  where  you  are  to  be  found.' 

'And  with  what  purpose,'  said  the  taller  of  the  two, 
sneeringly,  'does  your  most  rustic  gravity,  or  your  most 
grave  rusticity,  require  of  us  such  information? ' 

So  saying,  they  both  faced  about,  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  make  it  impossible  for  JuHan  to  advance  any  farther. 

'Make  for  the  stairs,  AHce,'  he  said;  'I  will  be  with  you 
in  an  instant.'  Then  freeing  himself  with  difficulty  from 
the  grasp  of  his  companions,  he  cast  his  cloak  hastily 
round  his  left  arm,  and  said  sternly  to  his  opponents, 
'Will  you  give  me  your  names,  sirs;  or  will  you  be  pleased 
to  make  way? ' 

'Not  till  we  know  for  whom  we  are  to  give  place,'  said 
one  of  them. 

'For  one  who  will  else  teach  you  what  you  want  — 
good  manners,'  said  Peveril,  and  advanced,  as  if  to  push 
between  them. 

They  separated,  but  one  of  them  stretched  forth  his 
foot  before  Peveril,  as  if  he  meant  to  trip  him.  The  blood 

179 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  his  ancestors  was  already  boiling  within  him;  he  struck 
the  man  on  the  face  with  the  oaken  rod  which  he  had 
just  sneered  at,  and,  throwing  it  from  him,  instantly 
unsheathed  his  sword.  Both  the  others  drew,  and  pushed 
at  once;  but  he  caught  the  point  of  the  one  rapier  in  his 
cloak,  and  parried  the  other  thrust  with  his  own  weapon. 
He  might  have  been  less  lucky  in  the  second  close,  but  a 
cry  arose  among  the  watermen  of  'Shame — shame!  two 
upon  one!' 

'They  are  men  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's,'  said 
one  fellow;  'there's  no  safe  meddling  with  them.' 

'They  may  be  the  devil's  men,  if  they  will,'  said  an 
ancient  triton,  flourishing  his  stretcher;  'but  I  say  fair 
play  and  Old  England  for  ever;  and,  I  say,  knock  the 
gold-laced  puppies  down,  unless  they  will  fight  turn- 
about with  grey  jerkin,  like  honest  fellows  —  one  down, 
t'other  come  on.' 

The  lower  orders  of  London  have  in  all  times  been 
remarkable  for  the  delight  which  they  have  taken  in 
club-law,  or  fist-law;  and  for  the  equity  and  impartiality 
with  which  they  see  it  administered.  The  noble  science 
of  defence  was  then  so  generally  known,  that  a  bout  at 
single  rapier  excited  at  that  time  as  much  interest  and 
as  little  wonder  as  a  boxing-match  in  our  own  days.  The 
bystanders,  experienced  in  such  affrays,  presently  formed 
a  ring,  within  which  Peveril  and  the  taller  and  more  for- 
ward of  his  antagonists  were  soon  engaged  in  close  com- 
bat with  their  swords,  whilst  the  other,  overawed  by  the 
spectators,  was  prevented  from  interfering. 

'Well  done  the  tall  fellow!'  'WeU  thrust,  long-legs!' 
*  Huzza  for  two  ells  and  a  quarter! '  were  the  sounds  with 
which  the  fray  was  at  first  cheered;  for  Peveril's  oppo- 

i8o 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

nent  not  only  showed  great  activity  and  skill  in  fence, 
but  had  also  a  decided  advantage,  from  the  anxiety  with 
which  Julian  looked  out  for  Alice  Bridgenorth,  the  care 
for  whose  safety  diverted  him  in  the  beginning  of  the 
onset  from  that  which  he  ought  to  have  exclusively  be- 
stowed on  the  defence  of  his  own  Hfe.  A  slight  flesh- 
wound  in  the  side  at  once  punished,  and  warned  him  of, 
his  inadvertence;  when,  turning  his  whole  thoughts  on 
the  business  in  which  he  was  engaged,  and  animated  with 
anger  against  his  impertinent  intruder,  the  rencontre 
speedily  began  to  assume  another  face,  amidst  cries  of 
*Well  done,  grey  jerkin!'  'Try  the  metal  of  his  gold 
doublet!'  *  Finely  thrust ! '  *  Curiously  parried ! '  'There 
went  another  eyelet-hole  to  his  broidered  jerkin ! '  '  Fairly 
pinked,  by  G — d!'  In  fact,  the  last  exclamation  was 
uttered  amid  a  general  roar  of  applause,  accompanying 
a  successful  and  conclusive  lounge,  by  which  Peveril  ran 
his  gigantic  antagonist  through  the  body.  He  looked  at 
his  prostrate  foe  for  a  moment;  then,  recovering  himself, 
called  loudly  to  know  what  had  become  of  the  lady. 

'Never  mind  the  lady,  if  you  be  wise,'  said  one  of  the 
watermen;  *  the  constable  will  be  here  in  an  instant.  I  '11 
give  your  honour  a  cast  across  the  water  in  a  moment. 
It  may  be  as  much  as  your  neck's  worth.  Shall  only 
charge  a  Jacobus.' 

'You  be  d — d!'  said  one  of  his  rivals  in  profession,  'as 
your  father  was  before  you;  for  a  Jacobus,  I'll  set  the 
gentleman  into  Alsatia,  where  neither  bailiff  nor  con- 
stable dare  trespass.' 

'  The  lady,  you  scoundrels  —  the  lady ! '  exclaimed 
Peveril.   'Where  is  the  lady?' 

'  I  '11  carry  your  honour  where  you  shall  have  enough 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  ladies,  if  that  be  your  want/  said  the  old  triton;  and 
as  he  spoke,  the  clamour  amongst  the  watermen  was 
renewed,  each  hoping  to  cut  his  own  profit  out  of  the 
emergency  of  Julian's  situation. 

*A  sculler  will  be  least  suspected,  your  honour,'  said 
one  fellow. 

*  A  pair  of  oars  will  carry  you  through  the  water  Hke  a 
wild  duck,'  said  another. 

'But  you  have  got  never  a  tilt,  brother,'  said  a  third. 
'Now,  I  can  put  the  gentleman  as  snug  as  if  he  were 
under  hatches.' 

In  the  midst  of  the  oaths  and  clamour  attending  this 
aquatic  controversy  for  his  custom,  Peveril  at  length 
made  them  understand  that  he  would  bestow  a  Jacobus, 
not  on  him  whose  boat  was  first  oars,  but  on  whomsoever 
should  inform  him  of  the  fate  of  the  lady. 

*0f  which  lady?'  said  a  sharp  fellow;  'for,  to  my 
thought,  there  was  a  pair  on  them.' 

'Of  both  —  of  both,'  answered  Peveril;  'but  first,  of 
the  fair-haired  lady.' 

'Ay  —  ay,  that  was  she  that  shrieked  so  when  gold- 
jacket's  companion  handed  her  into  No.  20.' 

'Who  —  what  —  who  dared  to  hand  her?'  exclaimed 
Peveril. 

'  Nay,  master,  you  have  heard  enough  of  my  tale  with- 
out a  fee,'  said  the  waterman. 

'Sordid  rascal!'  said  Peveril,  giving  him  a  gold  piece, 
'speak  out,  or  I'll  run  my  sword  through  you!' 

'  For  the  matter  of  that,  master,' answered  the  fellow, 
*not  while  I  can  handle  this  trunnion;  but  a  bargain 's  a 
bargain,  and  so  I  '11  tell  you,  for  your  gold  piece,  that  the 
comrade  of  the  fellow  forced  one  of  your  wenches,  her 

182 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

with  the  fair  hair,  will  she  nill  she,  into  Tickling  Tom's 
wherry;  and  they  are  far  enough  up  Thames  by  this 
time,  with  wind  and  tide.' 

'  Sacred  Heaven,  and  I  stand  here ! '  exclaimed  Julian. 

'Why,  that  is  because  your  honour  will  not  take  a 
boat.' 

'  You  are  right,  my  friend ;  a  boat  —  a  boat  instantly ! ' 

'Follow  me,  then,  squire.  Here,  Tom,  bear  a  hand; 
the  gentleman  is  our  fare.' 

A  volley  of  water  language  was  exchanged  betwixt  the 
successful  candidate  for  Peveril's  custom  and  his  disap- 
pointed brethren,  which  concluded  by  the  ancient  tri- 
ton's  bellowing  out,  in  a  tone  above  them  all,  'that  the 
gentleman  was  in  a  fair  way  to  make  a  voyage  to  the 
isle  of  gulls,  for  that  sly  Jack  was  only  bantering  him: 
No.  20  had  rowed  for  York  buildings.' 

'To  the  isle  of  gallows,'  cried  another;  'for  here  comes 
one  who  will  mar  his  trip  up  Thames,  and  carry  him 
down  to  Execution  Dock.' 

In  fact,  as  he  spoke  the  word,  a  constable,  with  three 
or  four  of  his  assistants,  armed  with  the  old-fashioned 
brown-bills,  which  were  still  used  for  arming  those  guar- 
dians of  the  peace,  cut  off  our  hero's  farther  progress  to 
the  water's  edge  by  arresting  him  in  the  King's  name. 
To  attempt  resistance  would  have  been  madness,  as  he 
was  surrounded  on  all  sides;  so  Peveril  was  disarmed 
and  carried  before  the  nearest  justice  of  the  peace,  for 
examination  and  committal. 

The  legal  sage  before  whom  Juhan  was  taken  was  a 
man  very  honest  in  his  intentions,  very  bounded  in  his 
talents,  and  rather  timid  in  his  disposition.  Before  the 
general  alarm  given  to  England,  and  to  the  city  of  Lon- 

183 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

don  in  particular,  by  the  notable  discovery  of  the  Popish 
Plot,  Master  Maulstatute  had  taken  serene  and  undis- 
turbed pride  and  pleasure  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties 
as  a  justice  of  the  peace,  with  the  exercise  of  all  its  hon- 
orary privileges  and  awful  authority.  But  the  murder 
of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey  had  made  a  strong,  nay, 
an  indelible,  impression  on  his  mind;  and  he  walked  the 
courts  of  Themis  with  fear  and  trembling  after  that 
memorable  and  melancholy  event. 

Having  a  high  idea  of  his  official  importance,  and 
rather  an  exalted  notion  of  his  personal  consequence, 
his  honour  saw  nothing  from  that  time  but  cords  and 
daggers  before  his  eyes,  and  never  stepped  out  of  his  own 
house,  which  he  fortified,  and  in  some  measure  garri- 
soned, with  half  a  dozen  tall  watchmen  and  constables, 
without  seeing  himself  watched  by  a  Papist  in  disguise, 
w^th  a  drawn  sword  under  his  cloak.  It  was  even  whis- 
pered that,  in  the  agonies  of  his  fears,  the  worshipful 
Master  Maulstatute  mistook  the  kitchen-wench  with  a 
tinderbox  for  a  Jesuit  with  a  pistol;  but  if  any  one  dared 
to  laugh  at  such  an  error,  he  would  have  done  well  to 
conceal  his  mirth,  lest  he  fell  under  the  heavy  inculpa- 
tion of  being  a  banterer  and  stifler  of  the  Plot  —  a  crime 
almost  as  deep  as  that  of  being  himself  a  Plotter.  In 
fact,  the  fears  of  the  honest  Justice,  however  ridiculously 
exorbitant,  were  kept  so  much  in  countenance  by  the 
outcry  of  the  day  and  the  general  nervous  fever  which 
afflicted  every  good  Protestant,  that  Master  Maulstat- 
ute was  accounted  the  bolder  man  and  the  better  magis- 
trate, while,  under  the  terror  of  the  air-drawn  dagger 
which  fancy  placed  continually  before  his  eyes,  he  con- 
tinued to  dole  forth  justice  in  the  recesses  of  his  private 

184 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

chamber,  nay,  occasionally  to  attend  quarter-sessions, 
when  the  hall  was  guarded  by  a  sufficient  body  of  the 
militia.  Such  was  the  wight  at  whose  door,  well  chained 
and  doubly  bolted,  the  constable  who  had  Julian  in  cus- 
tody now  gave  his  important  and  well-known  knock. 

Notwithstanding  this  official  signal,  the  party  was  not 
admitted  until  the  clerk,  who  acted  the  part  of  high 
warder,  had  reconnoitred  them  through  a  grated  wicket; 
for  who  could  say  whether  the  Papists  might  not  have 
made  themselves  master  of  Master  Constable's  sign, 
and  have  prepared  a  pseudo-watch  to  burst  in  and  mur- 
der the  justice,  under  pretence  of  bringing  a  criminal 
before  him?  Less  hopeful  projects  had  figured  in  the 
Narrative  of  the  Popish  Plot. 

All  being  found  right,  the  key  was  turned,  the  bolts 
were  drawn,  and  the  chain  unhooked,  so  as  to  permit 
entrance  to  the  constable,  the  prisoner,  and  the  assist- 
ants; and  the  door  was  then  as  suddenly  shut  against 
the  witnesses,  who,  as  less  trustworthy  persons,  were 
requested,  through  the  wicket,  to  remain  in  the  yard, 
until  they  should  be  called  in  their  respective  turns. 

Had  Julian  been  inchned  for  mirth,  as  was  far  from 
being  the  case,  he  must  have  smiled  at  the  incongruity 
of  the  clerk's  apparel,  who  had  belted  over  his  black 
buckram  suit  a  buff  baldric,  sustaining  a  broadsword 
and  a  pair  of  huge  horse-pistols;  and,  instead  of  the  low 
flat  hat  which,  coming  in  place  of  the  city  cap,  completed 
the  dress  of  a  scrivener,  had  placed  on  his  greasy  locks  a 
rusted  steel  cap,  which  had  seen  Marston  Moor;  across 
which  projected  his  well-used  quill,  in  the  guise  of  a 
plume  —  the  shape  of  the  morion  not  admitting  of  its 
being  stuck,  as  usual,  behind  his  ear. 

i8S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

This  whimsical  figure  conducted  the  constable,  his 
assistants,  and  the  prisoner  into  the  low  hall,  where  his 
principal  dealt  forth  justice,  who  presented  an  appear- 
ance still  more  singular  than  that  of  his  dependant. 

Sundry  good  Protestants,  who  thought  so  highly  of 
themselves  as  to  suppose  they  were  worthy  to  be  distin- 
guished as  objects  of  CathoHc  cruelty,  had  taken  to  de- 
fensive arms  on  the  occasion.  But  it  was  quickly  found 
that  a  breast-plate  and  back-plate  of  proof,  fastened 
together  with  iron  clasps,  was  no  convenient  inclosure 
for  a  man  who  meant  to  eat  venison  and  custard;  and 
that  a  buff-coat,  or  shirt  of  mail,  was  scarcely  more  ac- 
commodating to  the  exertions  necessary  on  such  active 
occasions.  Besides,  there  were  other  objections,  as  the 
alarming  and  menacing  aspects  which  such  warlike 
habiliments  gave  to  the  exchange  and  other  places  where 
merchants  most  do  congregate;  and  excoriations  were 
bitterly  complained  of  by  many,  who,  not  belonging  to 
the  artillery  company  or  trained  bands,  had  no  experi- 
ence in  bearing  defensive  armour. 

To  obviate  these  objections,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to 
secure  the  persons  of  all  true  Protestant  citizens  against 
open  force  or  privy  assassinations  on  the  part  of  the 
Papists,  some  ingenious  artist,  belonging,  we  may  pre- 
sume, to  the  worshipful  Mercers'  Company,  had  con- 
trived a  species  of  armour,  of  which  neither  the  horse- 
armoury  in  the  Tower,  nor  Gwynnap's  Gothic  Hall,  no, 
nor  Dr.  Meyrick's  invaluable  collection  of  ancient  arms, 
has  preserved  any  specimen.  It  was  called  silk  armour,^ 
being  composed  of  a  doublet  and  breeches  of  quilted 
silk,  so  closely  stitched,  and  of  such  thickness,  as  to  be 
'  See  Note  9. 
186 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

proof  against  either  bullet  or  steel;  while  a  thick  bonnet, 
of  the  same  materials,  with  ear-flaps  attached  to  it,  and, 
on  the  whole,  much  resembhng  a  nightcap,  completed 
the  equipment,  and  ascertained  the  security  of  the  wearer 
from  the  head  to  the  knee. 

Master  Maulstatute,  among  other  worthy  citizens, 
had  adopted  this  singular  panoply,  which  had  the  advan- 
tage of  being  soft,  and  warm,  and  flexible,  as  well  as  safe. 
And  he  now  sat  in  his  judicial  elbow-chair  —  a  short, 
rotund  figure,  hung  round,  as  it  were,  with  cushions,  for 
such  was  the  appearance  of  the  quilted  garments;  and 
with  a  nose  protruded  from  under  the  silken  casque  the 
size  of  which,  together  with  the  unwieldiness  of  the  whole 
figure,  gave  his  worship  no  indifferent  resemblance  to 
the  sign  of  the  Hog  in  Armour,  which  was  considerably 
improved  by  the  defensive  garment  being  of  a  dusky 
orange-colour,  not  altogether  unlike  the  hue  of  those 
half-wild  swine  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  forests  of 
Hampshire. 

Secure  in  these  invulnerable  envelopments,  his  wor- 
ship had  rested  content,  although  severed  from  his  own 
death-doing  weapons  of  rapier,  poniard,  and  pistols, 
which  were  placed,  nevertheless,  at  no  great  distance 
from  his  chair.  One  offensive  implement,  indeed,  he 
thought  it  prudent  to  keep  on  the  table  beside  his  huge 
"  Coke  upon  Lyttleton."  This  was  a  sort  of  pocket-flail, 
consisting  of  a  piece  of  strong  ash,  about  eighteen  inches 
long,  to  which  was  attached  a  swinging  club  of  lignum 
vitcB,  nearly  twice  as  long  as  the  handle,  but  jointed  so  as 
to  be  easily  folded  up.  This  instrument,  which  bore  at 
that  time  the  singular  name  of  the  Protestant  flail,  might 
be  concealed  under  the  coat  until  circumstances  de- 

187 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

manded  its  public  appearance.  A  better  precaution 
against  surprise  than  his  arms,  whether  offensive  or  de- 
fensive, was  a  strong  iron  grating,  which,  crossing  the 
room  in  front  of  the  justice's  table,  and  communicating 
by  a  grated  door,  which  was  usually  kept  locked,  effect- 
ually separated  the  accused  party  from  his  judge. 

Justice  Maulstatute,  such  as  we  have  described  him, 
chose  to  hear  the  accusation  of  the  witnesses  before  call- 
ing on  Peveril  for  his  defence.  The  detail  of  the  affray 
was  briefly  given  by  the  bystanders,  and  seemed  deeply 
to  touch  the  spirit  of  the  examinator.  He  shook  his  silken 
casque  emphatically  when  he  understood  that,  after 
some  language  betwixt  the  parties,  which  the  witnesses 
did  not  quite  understand,  the  young  man  in  custody 
struck  the  first  blow,  and  drew  his  sword  before  the 
wounded  party  had  unsheathed  his  weapon.  Again  he 
shook  his  crested  head  yet  more  solemnly,  when  the  re- 
sult of  the  conflict  was  known;  and  yet  again,  when  one 
of  the  witnesses  declared  that,  to  the  best  of  his  know- 
ledge, the  sufferer  in  the  fray  was  a  gentleman  belonging 
to  the  household  of  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. 

'A  worthy  peer,'  quoth  the  armed  magistrate  —  'a 
true  Protestant,  and  a  friend  to  his  country.  Mercy  on 
us,  to  what  a  height  of  audacity  hath  this  age  arisen! 
We  see  weU,  and  could,  were  we  as  blind  as  a  mole,  out 
of  what  quiver  this  shaft  hath  been  drawn ! ' 

He  then  put  on  his  spectacles,  and  having  desired 
Julian  to  be  brought  forward,  he  glared  upon  him  aw- 
fully with  those  glazen  eyes  from  under  the  shade  of  his 
quilted  turban. 

'So  young,'  he  said,  'and  so  hardened  —  lack-a-day! 
and  a  Papist,  I'll  warrant.' 

i88 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Peveril  had  time  enough  to  recollect  the  necessity  of 
his  being  at  large,  if  he  could  possibly  obtain  his  freedom, 
and  interposed  here  a  civil  contradiction  of  his  worship's 
gracious  supposition.  ' He  was  no  Catholic,'  he  said, '  but 
an  unworthy  member  of  the  Church  of  England.' 

'Perhaps  but  a  lukewarm  Protestant,  notwithstand- 
ing,'said  the  sage  justice;  'there  are  those  amongst  us 
who  ride  tantivy  to  Rome,  and  have  already  made  out 
half  the  journey  —  ahem ! ' 

Peveril  disowned  his  being  any  such. 

'And  who  art  thou,  then? '  said  the  justice; '  for,  friend, 
to  tell  you  plainly,  I  like  not  your  visage  —  ahem ! ' 

These  short  and  emphatic  coughs  were  accompanied 
each  by  a  succinct  nod,  intimating  the  perfect  conviction 
of  the  speaker  that  he  had  made  the  best,  the  wisest,  and 
the  most  acute  observation  of  which  the  premises  ad- 
mitted. 

Julian,  irritated  by  the  whole  circumstances  of  his 
detention,  answered  the  justice's  interrogation  in  rather 
a  lofty  tone  —  *  My  name  is  Julian  Peveril ! ' 

'Now,  Heaven  be  around  us!'  said  the  terrified  jus- 
tice; 'the  son  of  that  black-hearted  Papist  and  traitor, 
Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  now  in  hands,  and  on  the  verge  of 
trial!' 

'How,  sir!'  exclaimed  Julian,  forgetting  his  situation, 
and,  stepping  forward  to  the  grating  with  a  violence 
which  made  the  bars  clatter,  he  so  startled  the  appalled 
justice  that,  snatching  his  Protestant  flail.  Master  Maul- 
statute  aimed  a  blow  at  his  prisoner,  to  repel  what  he 
apprehended  was  a  premeditated  attack.  But  whether 
it  was  owing  to  the  justice's  hurry  of  mind  or  inexperi- 
ence in  managing  the  weapon,  he  not  only  missed  his 

189 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

aim,  but  brought  the  swinging  part  of  the  machine  round 
his  own  skull,  with  such  a  severe  counter-buff  as  com- 
pletely to  try  the  efficacy  of  his  cushioned  helmet,  and, 
in  spite  of  its  defence,  to  convey  a  stunning  sensation, 
which  he  rather  hastily  imputed  to  the  consequence  of  a 
blow  received  from  Peveril. 

His  assistants  did  not  indeed  directly  confirm  the 
opinion  which  the  justice  had  so  unwarrantably  adopted ; 
but  all  with  one  voice  agreed  that,  but  for  their  own 
active  and  instantaneous  interference,  there  was  no 
knowing  what  mischief  might  have  been  done  by  a  per- 
son so  dangerous  as  the  prisoner.  The  general  opinion 
that  he  meant  to  proceed  in  the  matter  of  his  own  rescue 
par  vote  du  fait  was  indeed  so  deeply  impressed  on  all 
present,  that  Julian  saw  it  would  be  in  vain  to  offer  any 
defence,  especially  being  but  too  conscious  that  the 
alarming,  and  probably  the  fatal,  consequences  of  his 
rencontre  with  the  bully  rendered  his  commitment  in- 
evitable. He  contented  himself  with  asking  into  what 
prison  he  was  to  be  thrown;  and  when  the  formidable 
word  Newgate  was  returned  as  full  answer,  he  had  at 
least  the  satisfaction  to  reflect  that,  stern  and  dangerous 
as  was  the  shelter  of  that  roof,  he  should  at  least  enjoy 
it  in  company  with  his  father;  and  that,  by  some  means 
or  other,  they  might  perhaps  obtain  the  satisfaction  of 
a  melancholy  meeting,  imder  the  circumstances  of  mu- 
tual calamity  which  seemed  impending  over  their  house. 

Assuming  the  virtue  of  more  patience  than  he  actually 
possessed,  Julian  gave  the  magistrate,  to  whom  all  the 
mildness  of  his  demeanour  could  not,  however,  reconcile 
him,  the  direction  to  the  house  where  he  lodged,  to- 
gether with  a  request  that  his  servant,  Lance  Outram, 

190 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK' 

might  be  permitted  to  send  him  his  money  and  wearing- 
apparel;  adding,  that  all  which  might  be  in  his  posses- 
sion, either  of  arms  or  writings  —  the  former  amounting 
to  a  pair  of  travelling-pistols,  and  the  last  to  a  few  memo- 
randa of  little  consequence  —  he  willingly  consented  to 
place  at  the  disposal  of  the  magistrate.  It  was  in  that 
moment  that  he  entertained,  with  sincere  satisfaction, 
the  comforting  reflection  that  the  important  papers  of 
Lady  Derby  were  already  in  the  possession  of  the  sover- 
eign. 

The  justice  promised  attention  to  his  requests;  but 
reminded  him,  with  great  dignity,  that  his  present  com- 
placent and  submissive  behaviour  ought,  for  his  own 
sake,  to  have  been  adopted  from  the  beginning,  instead 
of  disturbing  the  presence  of  magistracy  with  such  atro- 
cious marks  of  the  malignant,  rebellious,  and  murderous 
spirit  of  Popery  as  he  had  at  first  exhibited.  *Yet,'  he 
said,  '  as  he  was  a  goodly  young  man,  and  of  honourable 
quality,  he  would  not  suffer  him  to  be  dragged  through 
the  streets  as  a  felon,  but  had  ordered  a  coach  for  his 
accommodation . ' 

His  honour.  Master  Maulstatute,  uttered  the  word 
'coach'  with  the  importance  of  one  who,  as  Dr.  John- 
son saith  of  later  date,  is  conscious  of  the  dignity  of 
putting  horses  to  his  chariot.  The  worshipful  Master 
Maulstatute  did  not,  however,  on  this  occasion,  do  Ju- 
lian the  honour  of  yoking  to  his  huge  family  caroche 
the  two  'frampal  jades,'  to  use  the  term  of  the  period, 
which  were  wont  to  drag  that  ark  to  the  meeting-house 
of  pure  and  precious  Master  Howlaglass  on  a  Thurs- 
day's evening  for  lecture,  and  on  a  Sunday  for  a  four- 
hours'  sermon.   He  had  recourse  to  a  leathern  conven- 

191 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ience,  then  more  rare,  but  just  introduced,  with  every 
prospect  of  the  great  facility  which  has  since  been  af- 
forded by  hackney  coaches  to  all  manner  of  communi- 
cation, honest  and  dishonest,  legal  and  illegal.  Our 
friend  Julian,  hitherto  much  more  accustomed  to  the 
saddle  than  to  any  other  conveyance,  soon  found  him- 
self in  a  hackney  carriage,  with  the  constable  and  two 
assistants  for  his  companions,  armed  up  to  the  teeth  — 
the  port  of  destination  being,  as  they  had  already  inti- 
mated, the  ancient  fortress  of  Newgate. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

T  is  the  black-ban  dog  of  our  jail.  Pray  look  on  him, 
But  at  a  wary  distance.  Rouse  him  not; 
He  bays  not  till  he  worries. 

The  Black  Dog  oj  Newgale. 

The  coach  stopped  before  those  tremendous  gates 
which  resemble  those  of  Tartarus,  save  only  that  they 
rather  more  frequently  permit  safe  and  honourable 
egress;  although  at  the  price  of  the  same  anxiety  and 
labour  with  which  Hercules  and  one  or  two  of  the  demi- 
gods extricated  themselves  from  the  hell  of  the  ancient 
mythology,  and  sometimes,  it  is  said,  by  the  assistance 
of  the  golden  boughs. 

Julian  stepped  out  of  the  vehicle,  carefully  supported 
on  either  side  by  his  companions,  and  also  by  one  or  two 
turnkeys,  whom  the  first  summons  of  the  deep  bell  at 
the  gate  had  called  to  their  assistance.  That  attention, 
it  may  be  guessed,  was  not  bestowed  lest  he  should  make 
a  false  step,  so  much  as  for  fear  of  his  attempting  an  es- 
cape, of  which  he  had  no  intentions.  A  few  prentices 
and  straggling  boys  of  the  neighbouring  market,  which 
derived  considerable  advantage  from  increase  of  custom 
in  consequence  of  the  numerous  committals  on  account 
of  the  Popish  Plot,  and  who  therefore  were  zealous 
Protestants,  saluted  him  on  his  descent  with  jubilee 
shouts  of  *  Whoop,  Papist!  —  whoop,  Papist!  D — n  to 
the  Pope  and  all  his  adherents ! ' 

Under  such  auspices,  Peveril  was  ushered  in  beneath 
that  gloomy  gateway  where  so  many  bid  adieu  on  their 

«8  193 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

entrance  at  once  to  honour  and  to  life.  The  dark  and 
dismal  arch  under  which  he  soon  found  himself  opened 
upon  a  large  courtyard,  where  a  number  of  debtors  were 
employed  in  playing  at  hand-ball,  pitch-and-toss,  hustle- 
cap,  and  other  games;  for  which  relaxations  the  rigour 
of  their  creditors  afforded  them  full  leisure,  while  it 
debarred  them  the  means  of  pursuing  the  honest  labour 
by  which  they  might  have  redeemed  their  affairs  and 
maintained  their  starving  and  beggared  families. 

But  with  this  careless  and  desperate  group  Julian 
was  not  to  be  numbered,  being  led,  or  rather  forced,  by 
his  conductors  into  a  low  arched  door,  which,  carefully 
secured  by  bolts  and  bars,  opened  for  his  reception  on 
one  side  of  the  archway,  and  closed,  with  all  its  fasten- 
ings, the  moment  after  his  hasty  entrance.  He  was  then 
conducted  along  two  or  three  gloomy  passages,  which, 
where  they  intersected  each  other,  were  guarded  by  as 
many  strong  wickets,  one  of  iron  grates  and  the  others 
of  stout  oak,  clenched  with  plates  and  studded  with 
nails  of  the  same  metal.  He  was  not  allowed  to  pause 
until  he  found  himself  hurried  into  a  little  round  vaulted 
room,  which  several  of  these  passages  opened  into,  and 
which  seemed,  with  respect  to  the  labyrinth  through 
part  of  which  he  had  passed,  to  resemble  the  central 
point  of  a  spider's  web,  in  which  the  main  lines  of  that 
reptile's  curious  maze  are  always  found  to  terminate. 

The  resemblance  did  not  end  here;  for  in  this  small 
vaulted  apartment,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  round 
with  musketoons,  pistols,  cutlasses,  and  other  weapons, 
as  well  as  with  many  sets  of  fetters  and  irons  of  different 
construction,  all  disposed  in  great  order  and  ready  for 
employment,  a  person  sat  who  might  not  unaptly  be 

194 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

compared  to  a  huge  bloated  and  bottled  spider,  placed 
there  to  secure  the  prey  which  had  fallen  into  his 
toils. 

This  oflScial  had  originally  been  a  very  strong  and 
square-built  man  of  large  size,  but  was  now  so  over- 
grown, from  over-feeding,  perhaps,  and  want  of  exer- 
cise, as  to  bear  the  same  resemblance  to  his  former  self 
which  a  stall-fed  ox  still  retains  to  a  wild  bull.  The  look 
of  no  man  is  so  inauspicious  as  a  fat  man  upon  whose 
features  ill-nature  has  marked  an  habitual  stamp.  He 
seems  to  have  reversed  the  old  proverb  of  'laugh  and 
be  fat,'  and  to  have  thriven  under  the  influence  of  the 
worst  affections  of  the  mind.  Passionate  we  can  allow  a 
jolly  mortal  to  be;  but  it  seems  unnatural  to  his  goodly 
case  to  be  sulky  and  brutal.  Now,  this  man's  features, 
surly  and  tallow-coloured,  his  limbs  swelled  and  dis- 
proportioned,  his  huge  paunch  and  unwieldy  carcass,  sug- 
gested the  idea  that,  having  once  found  his  way  into 
this  central  recess,  he  had  there  battened,  like  the  weasel 
in  the  fable,  and  fed  largely  and  foully,  until  he  had  be- 
come incapable  of  retreating  through  any  of  the  narrow 
paths  that  terminated  at  his  cell;  and  was  thus  compelled 
to  remain,  like  a  toad  under  the  cold  stone,  fattening 
amid  the  squalid  airs  of  the  dungeons  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  which  would  have  proved  pestiferous  to  any 
other  than  such  a  congenial  inhabitant.  Huge  iron- 
clasped  books  lay  before  this  ominous  specimen  of 
pinguitude  —  the  records  of  the  realm  of  misery,  in 
which  office  he  officiated  as  prime  minister;  and  had 
Peveril  come  thither  as  an  unconcerned  visitor,  his 
heart  would  have  sunk  within  him  at  considering  the 
mass  of  human  wretchedness  which  must  needs  be  regis- 

195 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tered  in  these  fatal  volumes.  But  his  own  distresses  sat 
too  heavy  on  his  mind  to  permit  any  general  reflections 
of  this  nature. 

The  constable  and  this  bulky  official  whispered  to- 
gether, after  the  former  had  delivered  to  the  latter  the 
warrant  of  Julian's  commitment.  The  word  'whispered' 
is  not  quite  accurate,  for  their  communication  was  car- 
ried on  less  by  words  than  by  looks  and  expressive  signs; 
by  which,  in  all  such  situations,  men  learn  to  supply  the 
use  of  language,  and  to  add  mystery  to  what  is  in  itself 
sufficiently  terrible  to  the  captive.  The  only  words  which 
could  be  heard  were  those  of  the  warden,  or,  as  he  was 
called  then,  the  captain,  of  the  jail  —  'Another  bird  to 
the  cage?' 

'Who  will  whistle  "Pretty  Pope  of  Rome"  with  any 
starling  in  your  "knight's  ward,"'  answered  the  con- 
stable, with  a  facetious  air,  checked,  however,  by  the 
due  respect  to  the  superior  presence  in  which  he  stood. 

The  Grim  Feature  relaxed  into  something  like  a  smile 
as  he  heard  the  officer's  observation ;  but  instantly  com- 
posing himself  into  the  stern  solemnity  which  for  an  in- 
stant had  been  disturbed,  he  looked  fiercely  at  his  new 
guest,  and  pronounced,  with  an  awful  and  emphatic, 
yet  rather  an  under-voice,  the  single  and  impressive 
word  'Garnish!' 

Julian  Peveril  replied  with  assumed  composure;  for 
he  had  heard  of  the  customs  of  such  places,  and  was  re- 
solved to  comply  with  them,  so  as  if  possible  to  obtain 
the  favour  of  seeing  his  father,  which  he  shrewdly 
guessed  must  depend  on  his  gratifying  the  avarice  of  the 
keeper.  'I  am  quite  ready,'  he  said,  'to  accede  to  the 
customs  of  the  place  in  which  I  unhappily  find  myself. 

196 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

You  have  but  to  name  your  demands,  and  I  will  satisfy 
them.' 

So  saying,  he  drew  out  his  purse,  thinking  himself 
at  the  same  time  fortunate  that  he  had  retained  about 
him  a  considerable  sum  of  gold.  The  captain  remarked 
its  width,  depth,  its  extension  and  depression,  with  an 
involuntary  smile,  which  had  scarce  contorted  his  hang- 
ing under-lip  and  the  wiry  and  greasy  mustache  which 
thatched  the  upper,  when  it  was  checked  by  the  recol- 
lection that  there  were  regulations  which  set  bounds  to 
his  rapacity,  and  prevented  him  from  pouncing  on  his 
prey  Hke  a  kite  and  swooping  it  all  off  at  once. 

This  chilling  reflection  produced  the  following  sullen 
reply  to  Peveril:  —  'There  were  sundry  rates.  Gentle- 
men must  choose  for  themselves.  He  asked  nothing  but 
his  fees.  But  civility,'  he  muttered,  'must  be  paid  for.' 

'And  shall,  if  I  can  have  it  for  payment,'  said  Peveril; 
'but  the  price,  my  good  sir  —  the  price?' 

He  spoke  with  some  degree  of  scorn,  which  he  was  the 
less  anxious  to  repress,  that  he  saw,  even  in  this  Jail,  his 
purse  gave  him  an  indirect  but  powerful  influence  over 
his  jailor. 

The  captain  seemed  to  feel  the  same ;  for,  as  he  spoke, 
he  plucked  from  his  head,  almost  involuntarily,  a  sort 
of  scalded  fur-cap,  which  served  it  for  covering.  But  his 
fingers,  revolting  from  so  unusual  an  act  of  complaisance, 
began  to  indemnify  themselves  by  scratching  his  grizzly 
shock-head,  as  he  muttered,  in  a  tone  resembling  the 
softened  growling  of  a  mastiff  when  he  has  ceased  to  bay 
the  intruder  who  shows  no  fear  of  him  —  'There  are 
different  rates.  There  is  the  "little  ease,"  for  common 
fees  of  the  crown  —  rather  dark,  and  the  common  sewer 

197 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

runs  below  it;  and  some  gentlemen  object  to  the  com- 
pany,  who  are  chiefly  padders  and  michers.  Then  the 
"master's  side"  —  the  garnish  came  to  one  piece,  and 
none  lay  stowed  there  but  who  were  in  for  murder  at 
the  least.' 

'  Name  your  highest  price,  sir,  and  take  it,'  was  Ju- 
lian's concise  reply. 

'Three  pieces  for  the  "knight's  ward,"'  answered  the 
governor  of  this  terrestrial  Tartarus. 

'  Take  five  and  place  me  with  Sir  Geoffrey,'  was  again 
Julian's  answer,  throwing  down  the  money  upon  the 
desk  before  him. 

*Sir  Geoffrey!  Hum!  —  ay,  Sir  Geoffrey,'  said  the 
jailor,  as  if  meditating  what  he  ought  to  do.  '  Well,  many 
a  man  has  paid  money  to  see  Sir  Geoffrey  —  scarce  so 
much  as  you  have,  though.  But  then  you  are  like  to  see 
the  last  on  him  —  ha,  ha,  ha!' 

These  broken  muttered  exclamations,  which  termin- 
ated with  a  laugh  somewhat  like  the  joyous  growl  of  a 
tiger  over  his  meal,  Julian  could  not  comprehend,  and 
only  replied  to  by  repeating  his  request  to  be  placed  in 
the  same  cell  with  Sir  Geoffrey. 

'Ay,  master,'  said  the  jailor,  'never  fear,  I'll  keep 
word  with  you,  as  you  seem  to  know  something  of  what 
belongs  to  your  station  and  mine.  And  hark  ye,  Jem 
Chnk  will  fetch  you  the  darbies.' 

'Derby!'  interrupted  Julian.  'Has  the  earl  or  count- 
ess— ' 

'Earl  or  countess!  Ha,  ha,  ha!'  again  laughed,  or 
rather  growled,  the  warden.  '  What  is  your  head  running 
on?  You  are  a  high  fellow,  belike;  but  all  is  one  here. 
The  darbies  are  the  fetlocks  —  the  fast-keepers,  my 

iq8 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

boy  —  the  bail  for  good  behaviour,  my  darling;  and  if 
you  are  not  the  more  conforming,  I  can  add  you  a  steel 
nightcap  and  a  curious  bosom-friend,  to  keep  you  warm 
of  a  winter  night.  But  don't  be  disheartened :  you  have 
behaved  genteel,  and  you  shall  not  be  put  upon.  And 
as  for  this  here  matter,  ten  to  one  it  will  turn  out  chance- 
medley,  or  manslaughter,  at  the  worst  on  't;  and  then 
it  is  but  a  singed  thumb  instead  of  a  twisted  neck — 
always  if  there  be  no  Papistry  about  it,  for  then  I 
warrant  nothing.  Take  the  gentleman's  worship  away, 
Clink.' 

A  turnkey,  who  was  one  of  the  party  that  had  ushered 
Peveril  into  the  presence  of  this  Cerberus,  now  conveyed 
him  out  in  silence;  and,  under  his  guidance,  the  prisoner 
was  carried  through  a  second  labyrinth  of  passages  with 
cells  opening  on  each  side,  to  that  which  was  destined 
for  his  reception. 

On  the  road  through  this  sad  region,  the  turnkey  more 
than  once  ejaculated,  'Why,  the  gentleman  must  be 
stark  mad!  Could  have  had  the  best  crown  cell  to  him- 
self for  less  than  half  the  garnish,  and  must  pay  double 
to  pig  in  with  Sir  Geoffrey !  Ha,  ha !  Is  Sir  Geofifrey  akin 
to  you,  if  any  one  may  make  free  to  ask?' 

*I  am  his  son,'  answered  Peveril,  sternly,  in  hopes  to 
impose  some  curb  on  the  fellow's  impertinence;  but  the 
man  only  laughed  louder  than  before. 

'His  son!  Why,  that's  best  of  all.  Why,  you  are  a 
strapping  youth  —  five  feet  ten,  if  you  be  an  inch  — 
and  Sir  Geoffrey's  son!   Ha,  ha,  ha!' 

'Truce  with  your  impertinence,'  said  Julian.  'My 
situation  gives  you  no  title  to  insult  me!' 

'No  more  I  do,'  said  the  turnkey,  smothering  his 

199 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

mirth  at  the  recollection,  perhaps,  that  the  prisoner's 
purse  was  not  exhausted.  'I  only  laughed  because  you 
said  you  were  Sir  Geoffrey's  son.  But  no  matter  —  't  is 
a  wise  child  that  knows  his  own  father.  And  here  is  Sir 
Geoffrey's  cell;  so  you  and  he  may  settle  the  fatherhood 
between  you.' 

So  saying,  he  ushered  his  prisoner  into  a  cell,  or  rather 
a  strong  room,  of  the  better  order,  in  which  there  were 
four  chairs,  a  truckle-bed,  and  one  or  two  other  articles 
of  furniture. 

Julian  looked  eagerly  around  for  his  father;  but  to  his 
surprise  the  room  appeared  totally  empty.  He  turned 
with  anger  on  the  turnkey,  and  charged  him  with  mis- 
leading him;  but  the  fellow  answered,  'No  —  no,  mas- 
ter; I  have  kept  faith  with  you.  Your  father,  if  you  call 
him  so,  is  only  tappiced  in  some  corner.  A  small  hole 
will  hide  him;  but  I'll  rouse  him  out  presently  for  you. 
Here,  hoicks !  Turn  out,  Sir  Geoffrey !  Here  is  —  ha,  ha, 
ha!  —  your  son  —  or  your  wife's  son  —  for  I  think  you 
can  have  but  little  share  in  him  —  come  to  wait  on  you.' 

Peveril  knew  not  how  to  resent  the  man's  insolence; 
and  indeed  his  anxiety  and  apprehension  of  some  strange 
mistake  mingled  with,  and  in  some  degree  neutralised,  his 
anger.  He  looked  again  and  again,  around  and  around 
the  room ;  until  at  length  he  became  aware  of  something 
rolled  up  in  a  dark  corner,  which  rather  resembled  a 
small  bundle  of  crimson  cloth  than  any  living  creature. 
At  the  vociferation  of  the  turnkey,  however,  the  object 
seemed  to  acquire  life  and  motion  —  uncoiled  itself  in 
some  degree,  and,  after  an  effort  or  two,  gained  an  erect 
posture;  still  covered  from  top  to  toe  with  the  crimson 
drapery  in  which   it  was  at  first  wrapped.    Julian,  at 

200 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  first  glance,  imagined  from  the  size  that  he  saw  a 
child  of  five  years  old;  but  a  shrill  and  peculiar  tone  of 
voice  soon  assured  him  of  his  mistake. 

'Warder,'  said  this  unearthly  sound,  'what  is  the 
meaning  of  this  disturbance?  Have  you  more  insults 
to  heap  on  the  head  of  one  who  hath  ever  been  the  butt 
of  fortune's  malice?  But  I  have  a  soul  that  can  wrestle 
with  all  my  misfortunes;  it  is  as  large  as  any  of  your 
bodies.' 

'Nay,  Sir  Geoffrey,  if  this  be  the  way  you  welcome 
your  own  son !'  said  the  turnkey;  'but  you  quality  folks 
know  your  own  ways  best.' 

*My  son!'  exclaimed  the  little  figure.  'Audacious  — ' 
.  'Here  is  some  strange  mistake,' said  Peveril,  in  the 
same  breath.   'I  sought  Sir  Geoffrey  — ' 

'And  you  have  him  before  you,  young  man,'  said  the 
pigmy  tenant  of  the  cell,  with  an  air  of  dignity;  at  the 
same  time  casting  on  the  floor  his  crimson  cloak,  and 
standing  before  them  in  his  full  dignity  of  three  feet 
six  inches  of  height.  'I,  who  was  the  favoured  servant 
of  three  successive  sovereigns  of  the  crown  of  England, 
am  now  the  tenant  of  this  dungeon,  and  the  sport  of  its 
brutal  keepers.  I  am  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson.' 

Julian,  though  he  had  never  before  seen  this  important 
personage,  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising,  from  descrip- 
tion, the  celebrated  dwarf  of  Henrietta  Maria,  who  had 
survived  the  dangers  of  civil  war  and  private  quarrel, 
the  murder  of  his  royal  master,  Charles  I,  and  the  exile 
of  his  widow,  to  fall  upon  evil  tongues  and  evil  days 
amidst  the  unsparing  accusations  connected  with  the 
Popish  Plot.  He  bowed  to  the  unhappy  old  man,  and 
hastened  to  explain  to  him  and  to  the  turnkey  that  it  was 

201 

SANTA  ^mm  STATE  COLLEGE  IMk 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  Martindale  Castle  in  Derbyshire 
whose  prison  he  had  desired  to  share. 

'You  should  have  said  that  before  you  parted  with 
the  gold-dust,  my  master,'  answered  the  turnkey;  'for 
t'other  Sir  Geoffrey  —  that  is  the  big,  tall,  grey-haired 
man  —  was  sent  to  the  Tower  last  night ;  and  the  cap- 
tain will  think  he  has  kept  his  word  well  enow  with  you 
by  lodging  you  with  this  here  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson,  who 
is  the  better  show  of  the  two.' 

*I  pray  you  go  to  your  master,'  said  Peveril,  'explain 
the  mistake,  and  say  to  him  I  beg  to  be  sent  to  the 
Tower.' 

'The  Tower!  Ha,  ha,  ha!' exclaimed  the  fellow.  'The 
Tower  is  for  lords  and  knights,  and  not  for  squires  of 
low  degree;  for  high  treason,  and  not  for  ruffling  on  the 
streets  with  rapier  and  dagger;  and  there  must  go  a 
secretary's  warrant  to  send  you  there.' 

'At  least,  let  me  not  be  a  burden  on  this  gentleman,' 
said  Julian.  'There  can  be  no  use  in  quartering  us  to- 
gether, since  we  are  not  even  acquainted.  Go  tell  your 
master  of  the  mistake.' 

'Why,  so  I  should,'  said  Clink,  still  grinning,  'if  I  were 
not  sure  that  he  knew  it  already.  You  paid  to  be  sent 
to  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  he  sent  you  to  Sir  Geoffrey.  You 
are  so  put  down  in  the  register,  and  he  will  blot  it  for  no 
man.  Come  —  come,  be  conformable,  and  you  shall  have 
light  and  easy  irons  —  that's  all  I  can  do  for  you.' 

Resistance  and  expostulation  being  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, Peveril  submitted  to  have  a  light  pair  of  fetters 
secured  on  his  ankles,  which  allowed  him,  nevertheless, 
the  power  of  traversing  the  apartment. 

During  this  operation,  he  reflected  that  the  jailor,  who 

202 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

had  taken  the  advantage  of  the  equivoque  betwixt  the 
two  Sir  Geoffreys,  must  have  acted  as  his  assistant  had 
hinted,  and  cheated  him  from  malice  prepense,  since  the 
warrant  of  committal  described  him  as  the  son  of  Sir 
Geofifrey  Peveril.  It  was  therefore  in  vain,  as  well  as 
degrading,  to  make  further  application  to  such  a  man 
on  the  subject.  Julian  determined  to  submit  to  his  fate, 
as  what  could  not  be  averted  by  any  effort  of  his  own. 

Even  the  turnkey  was  moved  in  some  degree  by  his 
youth,  good  mien,  and  the  patience  with  which,  after 
the  first  effervescence  of  disappointment,  the  new  pris- 
oner resigned  himself  to  his  situation.  *  You  seem  a  brave 
young  gentleman,'  he  said,  'and  shall  at  least  have  a 
good  dinner,  and  as  good  a  pallet  to  sleep  on  as  is  within 
the  walls  of  Newgate.  And,  Master  Sir  Geoffrey,  you 
ought  to  make  much  of  him,  since  you  do  not  like  tall 
fellows;  for  I  can  tell  you  that  Master  Peveril  is  in  for 
pinking  long  Jack  Jenkins,  that  was  the  master  of  de- 
fence —  as  tall  a  man  as  is  in  London,  always  excepting 
the  King's  porter.  Master  Evans,  that  carried  you  about 
in  his  pocket,  Sir  Geoffrey,  as  all  the  world  has  heard 
tell.' 

'Begone,  fellow!'  answered  the  dwarf.  *  Fellow,  I 
scorn  you ! ' 

The  turnkey  sneered,  withdrew,  and  locked  the  door 
behind  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXrV 


Degenerate  youth,  and  not  of  Tydeus'  kind. 
Whose  little  body  lodged  a  mighty  mindl 

Iliad. 


Left  quiet  at  least,  if  not  alone,  for  the  first  time  after 
the  events  of  this  troubled  and  varied  day,  Julian  threw 
himself  on  an  old  oaken  seat,  beside  the  embers  of 
a  sea-coal  fire,  and  began  to  muse  on  the  miserable  situa- 
tion of  anxiety  and  danger  in  which  he  was  placed, 
where,  whether  he  contemplated  the  interests  of  his 
love,  his  family  affections,  or  his  friendships,  all  seemed 
such  a  prospect  as  that  of  a  sailor  who  looks  upon  break- 
ers on  every  hand,  from  the  deck  of  a  vessel  which  no 
longer  obeys  the  helm. 

As  Peveril  sat  sunk  in  despondency,  his  companion 
in  misfortune  drew  a  chair  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
chimney-corner,  and  began  to  gaze  at  him  with  a  sort 
of  solemn  earnestness,  which  at  length  compelled  him, 
though  almost  in  spite  of  himself,  to  pay  some  attention 
to  the  singular  figure  who  seemed  so  much  engrossed 
with  contemplating  him. 

Geoffrey  Hudson  (we  drop  occasionally  the  title  of 
knighthood,  which  the  King  had  bestowed  on  him  in  a 
frolic,  but  which  might  introduce  some  confusion  into 
our  history),  although  a  dwarf  of  the  least  possible  size, 
had  nothing  positively  ugly  in  his  countenance  or  actually 
distorted  in  his  limbs.  His  head,  hands,  and  feet  were 
indeed  large,  and  disproportioned  to  the  height  of  his 
body,  and  his  body  itself  much  thicker  than  was  con- 

204 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

sistent  with  symmetry,  but  in  a  degree  which  was  rather 
ludicrous  than  disagreeable  to  look  upon.  His  counte- 
nance, in  particular,  had  he  been  a  little  taller,  would 
have  been  accounted,  in  youth,  handsome,  and  now,  in 
age,  striking  and  expressive;  it  was  but  the  uncommon 
disproportion  betwixt  the  head  and  the  trunk  which 
made  the  features  seem  whimsical  and  bizarre  —  an 
effect  which  was  considerably  increased  by  the  dwarf's 
mustaches,  which  it  was  his  pleasure  to  wear  so  large 
that  they  almost  twisted  back  amongst,  and  mingled 
with,  his  grizzled  hair. 

The  dress  of  this  singular  wight  announced  that  he 
was  not  entirely  free  from  the  unhappy  taste  which  fre- 
quently induces  those  whom  nature  has  marked  by  per- 
sonal deformity  to  distinguish,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
render  themselves  ridiculous,  by  the  use  of  showy  colours 
and  garments  fantastically  and  extraordinarily  fashioned. 
But  poor  Geoffrey  Hudson's  laces,  embroideries,  and  the 
rest  of  his  finery  were  sorely  worn  and  tarnished  by 
the  time  which  he  had  spent  in  jail  under  the  vague  and 
malicious  accusation  that  he  was  somehow  or  other  an 
accomplice  in  this  all-involving,  all-devouring  whirlpool 
of  a  Popish  conspiracy — an  impeachment  which,  if 
pronounced  by  a  mouth  the  foulest  and  most  malicious, 
was  at  that  time  sufficiently  predominant  to  sully  the 
fairest  reputation.  It  will  presently  appear  that,  in  the 
poor  man's  manner  of  thinking  and  tone  of  conversation, 
there  was  something  analogous  to  his  absurd  fashion  of 
apparel ;  for,  as  in  the  latter  good  stuff  and  valuable  de- 
corations were  rendered  ludicrous  by  the  fantastic  fashion 
in  which  they  were  made  up;  so,  such  glimmerings  of 
good  sense  and  honourable  feeling  as  the  little  man  often 

205 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

evinced  were  made  ridiculous  by  a  restless  desire  to  as- 
sume certain  airs  of  importance,  and  a  great  jealousy 
of  being  despised  on  account  of  the  peculiarity  of  his 
outward  form. 

After  the  fellow-prisoners  had  looked  at  each  other 
for  some  time  in  silence,  the  dwarf,  conscious  of  his  dig- 
nity as  first  owner  of  their  joint  apartment,  thought  it 
necessary  to  do  the  honours  of  it  to  the  new-comer. 
*Sir/  he  said,  modifying  the  alternate  harsh  and  squeak- 
ing tones  of  his  voice  into  accents  as  harmonious  as  they 
could  attain,  *I  understand  you  to  be  the  son  of  my 
worthy  namesake  and  ancient  acquaintance,  the  stout 
Sir  Geofifrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak.  I  promise  you,  I  have 
seen  your  father  where  blows  have  been  going  more 
plenty  than  gold  pieces;  and  for  a  tall  heavy  man,  who 
lacked,  as  we  martiaHsts  thought,  some  of  the  lightness 
and  activity  of  our  more  slightly  made  Cavaliers,  he 
performed  his  duty  as  a  man  might  desire.  I  am  happy 
to  see  you,  his  son;  and,  though  by  a  mistake,  I  am  glad 
we  are  to  share  this  comfortless  cabin  together.' 

Julian  bowed,  and  thanked  his  courtesy;  and  Geoffrey 
Hudson,  having  broken  the  ice,  proceeded  to  question 
him  without  further  ceremony.  'You  are  no  courtier, 
I  presume,  young  gentleman?' 

Julian  replied  in  the  negative. 

*I  thought  so,'  continued  the  dwarf;  'for  although  I 
have  now  no  official  duty  at  court,  the  region  in  which 
my  early  years  were  spent,  and  where  I  once  held  a  con- 
siderable office,  yet  I  still,  when  I  had  my  hberty,  visited 
the  presence  from  time  to  time,  as  in  duty  bound  for 
former  service;  and  am  wont,  from  old  habit,  to  take 
some  note  of  the  courtly  gallants,  those  choice  spirits  of 

206 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  age,  among  whom  I  was  once  enrolled.  You  are,  not 
to  compliment  you,  a  marked  figure,  Master  Peveril, 
though  something  of  the  tallest,  as  was  your  father's 
case;  I  think  I  could  scarce  have  seen  you  anywhere 
without  remembering  you,' 

Peveril  thought  he  might,  with  great  justice,  have 
returned  the  compliment;  but  contented  himself  with 
saying,  'He  had  scarce  seen  the  British  court.' 

"Tis  pity,'  said  Hudson;  *a  gallant  can  hardly  be 
formed  without  frequenting  it.  But  you  have  been 
perhaps  in  a  rougher  school:  you  have  served,  doubt- 
less?' 

*My  Maker,  I  hope,'  said  Julian. 

'Fie  on  it,  you  mistake.  I  meant,'  said  Hudson,  'd  la 
Franqoise :  you  have  served  in  the  army? ' 

'No.  I  have  not  yet  had  that  honour,'  said  Julian. 

'What!  neither  courtier  nor  soldier.  Master  Peveril?* 
said  the  important  little  man.  'Your  father  is  to  blame. 
By  cock  and  pie  he  is.  Master  Peveril!  How  shall  a  man 
be  known  or  distinguished  unless  by  his  bearing  in  peace 
and  war?  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  at  Newberry,  where  I 
charged  with  my  troop  abreast  with  Prince  Rupert,  and 
when,  as  you  may  have  heard,  we  were  both  beaten  ojQf 
by  those  cuckoldly  hinds  the  trained  bands  of  London, 
we  did  what  men  could ;  and  I  think  it  was  a  matter  of 
three  or  four  minutes  after  most  of  our  gentlemen  had  been 
driven  off,  that  his  Highness  and  I  continued  to  cut  at 
their  long  pikes  with  our  swords,  and  I  think  might  have 
broken  in,  but  that  I  had  a  tall,  long-legged  brute  of  a 
horse,  and  my  sword  was  somewhat  short  —  in  fine,  at 
last  we  were  obliged  to  make  volte-face,  and  then,  as  I 
was  going  to  say,  the  fellows  were  so  glad  to  get  rid  of  us 

207 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  they  set  up  a  great  jubilee  cry  of "  There  goes  Prince 
Robin  and  Cock  Robin!"  Ay  —  ay,  every  scoundrel 
among  them  knew  me  well.  But  those  days  are  over. 
And  where  were  you  educated,  young  gentleman?' 

Peveril  named  the  household  of  the  Countess  of  Derby. 

*A  most  honourable  lady,  upon  my  word  as  a  gentle- 
man,' said  Hudson.  'I  knew  the  noble  countess  well, 
when  I  was  about  the  person  of  my  royal  mistress,  Hen- 
rietta Maria.  She  was  then  the  very  muster  of  all  that 
was  noble,  loyal,  and  lovely.  She  was,  indeed,  one  of  the 
fifteen  fair  ones  of  the  court  whom  I  permitted  to  call 
me  Piccoluomini  —  a  foohsh  jest  on  my  somewhat  di- 
minutive figure,  which  always  distinguished  me  from 
ordinary  beings,  even  when  I  was  young.  I  have  now 
lost  much  stature  by  stooping,  but  always  the  ladies 
had  their  jest  at  me.  Perhaps,  young  man,  I  had  my  own 
amends  of  some  of  them  somewhere,  and  somehow  or 
other  —  I  say  nothing  if  I  had  or  no,  far  less  do  I  insinu- 
ate disrespect  to  the  noble  countess.  She  was  daughter 
of  the  Due  de  la  Tremouille,  or,  more  correctly,  Des 
Thouars.  But  certainly  to  serve  the  ladies,  and  con- 
descend to  their  humours,  even  when  somewhat  too  free 
or  too  fantastic,  is  the  true  decorum  of  gentle  blood.' 

Depressed  as  his  spirits  were,  Peveril  could  scarce  for- 
bear smiling  when  he  looked  at  the  pigmy  creature,  who 
told  these  stories  with  infinite  complacency,  and  ap- 
peared disposed  to  proclaim,  as  his  own  herald,, that  he 
had  been  a  very  model  of  valour  and  gallantry,  though 
love  and  arms  seemed  to  be  pursuits  totally  irrecon- 
cilable to  his  shrivelled,  weather-beaten  countenance 
and  wasted  limbs.  Julian  was,  however,  so  careful  to 
avoid  giving  his  companion  pain,  that  he  endeavoured  to 

208 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

humour  him  by  saying  that,  'Unquestionably,  one  bred 
up  like  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson,  in  courts  and  camps,  knew 
exactly  when  to  suffer  personal  freedoms  and  when  to 
control  them.' 

The  little  knight,  with  great  vivacity,  though  with 
some  difficulty,  began  to  drag  his  seat  from  the  side  of 
the  fire  opposite  to  that  where  Julian  was  seated,  and  at 
length  succeeded  in  bringing  it  near  him,  in  token  of  in- 
creasing cordiality. 

'You  say  well,  Master  Peveril,'  said  the  dwarf;  'and 
I  have  given  proofs  both  of  bearing  and  forbearing. 
Yes,  sir,  there  was  not  that  thing  which  my  most  royal 
mistress,  Henrietta  Maria,  could  have  required  of  me, 
that  I  would  not  have  complied  with,  sir:  I  was  her 
sworn  servant,  both  in  war  and  in  festival,  in  battle  and 
pageant,  sir.  At  her  Majesty's  particular  request,  I 
once  condescended  to  become  —  ladies,  you  know,  have 
strange  fancies  —  to  become  the  tenant,  for  a  time,  of 
the  interior  of  a  pie.' 

'Of  a  pie!'  said  Juhan,  somewhat  amazed. 

'Yes,  sir,  of  a  pie.  I  hope  you  find  nothing  risible  in 
my  complaisance?'  replied  his  companion,  something 
jealously. 

'Not  I,  sir,'  said  Peveril;  'I  have  other  matters  than 
laughter  in  my  head  at  present.' 

'So  had  I,'  said  the  dwarfish  champion,  'when  I  found 
myself  imprisoned  in  a  huge  platter,  of  no  ordinary  di- 
mensions you  may  be  assured,  since  I  could  lie  at  length 
in  it,  and  when  I  was  entombed,  as  it  were,  in  walls  of 
standing  crust  and  a  huge  cover  of  pastry,  the  whole 
constituting  a  sort  of  sarcophagus,  of  size  enough  to 
have  recorded  the  epitaph  of  a  general  officer  or  an  arch- 
28  209 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bishop  on  the  lid.  Sir,  notwithstanding  the  conveniences 
which  were  made  to  give  me  air,  it  was  more  like  being 
buried  alive  than  aught  else  which  I  could  think  of  ?'^ 

*I  conceive  it,  sir,'  said  Julian. 

'Moreover,  sir,'  continued  the  dwarf,  'there  were  few 
in  the  secret,  which  was  contrived  for  the  Queen's  di- 
vertisement ;  for  advancing  of  which  I  would  have  crept 
into  a  filbert  nut,  had  it  been  possible;  and  few,  as  I  said, 
being  private  in  the  scheme,  there  was  a  risk  of  acci- 
dents. I  doubted,  while  in  my  darksome  abode,  whether 
some  awkward  attendant  might  not  have  let  me  fall,  as 
I  have  seen  happen  to  a  venison  pasty ;  or  whether  some 
hungry  guest  might  not  anticipate  the  moment  of  my 
resurrection,  by  sticking  his  knife  into  my  upper  crust. 
And  though  I  had  my  weapons  about  me,  young  man, 
as  has  been  my  custom  in  every  case  of  peril,  yet,  if  such 
a  rash  person  had  plunged  deep  into  the  bowels  of  the 
supposed  pasty,  my  sword  and  dagger  could  barely  have 
served  me  to  avenge,  assuredly  not  to  prevent,  either 
of  these  catastrophes.' 

'Certainly  I  do  so  understand  it,'  said  Julian,  who  be- 
gan, however,  to  feel  that  the  company  of  little  Hudson, 
talkative  as  he  showed  himself,  was  likely  rather  to  ag- 
gravate than  to  alleviate  the  inconveniences  of  a  prison. 

'Nay,'  continued  the  little  man,  enlarging  on  his 
former  topic,  '  I  had  other  subjects  of  apprehension ;  for 
it  pleased  my  Lord  of  Buckingham,  his  Grace's  father 
who  now  bears  the  title,  in  his  plenitude  of  court  favour, 
to  command  the  pasty  to  be  carried  down  to  the  office, 
and  committed  anew  to  the  oven,  alleging  preposterously 
that  it  was  better  to  be  eaten  warm  than  cold.' 

^  See  Note  lo. 
210 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'And  did  this,  sir,  not  disturb  your  equanimity?'  said 
Julian. 

'My  young  friend,'  said  Geoffrey  Hudson,  'I  cannot 
deny  it.  Nature  will  claim  her  rights  from  the  best  and 
boldest  of  us.  I  thought  of  Nebuchadnezzar  and  his 
fiery  furnace;  and  I  waxed  warm  with  apprehension. 
But,  I  thank  Heaven,  I  also  thought  of  my  sworn  duty 
to  my  royal  mistress;  and  was  thereby  obliged  and  en- 
abled to  resist  all  temptations  to  make  myself  prema- 
turely known.  Nevertheless,  the  duke  —  if  of  malice, 
may  Heaven  forgive  him  —  followed  down  into  the 
office  himself,  and  urged  the  master-cook  very  hard 
that  the  pasty  should  be  heated,  were  it  but  for  five 
minutes.  But  the  master-cook,  being  privy  to  the  very 
different  intentions  of  my  royal  mistress,  did  most  man- 
fully resist  the  order;  and  I  was  again  reconveyed  in 
safety  to  the  royal  table.' 

'And  in  due  time  liberated  from  your  confinement,  I 
doubt  not? '  said  Peveril. 

'Yes,  sir;  that  happy,  and  I  may  say  glorious,  moment 
at  length  arrived,'  continued  the  dwarf.  'The  upper 
crust  was  removed;  I  started  up  to  the  sound  of  trum- 
pet and  clarion,  Hke  the  soul  of  a  warrior  when  the  last 
summons  shall  sound;  or  rather,  if  that  simile  be  over 
audacious,  like  a  spell-bound  champion  relieved  from 
his  enchanted  state.  It  was  then  that,  with  my  buckler 
on  my  arm  and  my  trusty  Bilboa  in  my  hand,  I  exe- 
cuted a  sort  of  warlike  dance,  in  which  my  skill  and  agil- 
ity then  rendered  me  preeminent,  displaying  at  the  same 
time  my  postures,  both  of  defence  and  offence,  in  a  man- 
ner so  totally  inimitable,  that  I  was  almost  deafened  with 
the  applause  of  all  around  me,  and  half-drowned  by  the 

211 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

scented  waters  with  which  the  ladies  of  the  court  de- 
luged me  from  their  casting-bottles.  I  had  amends  of  his 
Grace  of  Buckingham  also;  for  as  I  tripped  a  hasty 
morris  hither  and  thither  upon  the  dining-table,  now 
offering  my  blade,  now  recovering  it,  I  made  a  blow[^at 
his  nose  —  a  sort  of  estramaqon,  the  dexterity  of  which 
consists  in  coming  mighty  near  to  the  object  you  seem 
to  aim  at,  yet  not  attaining  it.  You  may  have  seen  a 
barber  make  such  a  flourish  with  his  razor.  I  promise 
you,  his  Grace  sprung  back  a  half-yard  at  least.  He  was 
pleased  to  threaten  to  brain  me  with  a  chicken-bone,  as 
he  disdainfully  expressed  it;  but  the  King  said,  "  George, 
you  have  but  a  Rowland  for  an  Oliver."  And  so  I 
tripped  on,  showing  a  bold  heedlessness  of  his  displea- 
sure, which  few  dared  to  have  done  at  that  time,  albeit 
countenanced  to  the  utmost  Hke  me  by  the  smiles  of  the 
brave  and  the  fair.  But,  well-a-day!  sir,  youth,  its 
fashions,  its  follies,  its  frolics,  and  all  its  pomp  and 
pride,  are  as  idle  and  transitory  as  the  crackling  of 
thorns  under  a  pot.' 

'The  flower  that  is  cast  into  the  oven  were  a  better 
simile,'  thought  Peveril.  'Good  God,  that  a  man  should 
live  to  regret  not  being  young  enough  to  be  still  treated 
as  baked  meat  and  served  up  in  a  pie ! ' 

His  companion,  whose  tongue  had  for  many  days  been 
as  closely  imprisoned  as  his  person,  seemed  resolved  to 
indemnify  his  loquacity  by  continuing  to  indulge  it  on 
the  present  occasion  at  his  companion's  expense.  He 
proceeded,  therefore,  in  a  solemn  tone,  to  moralise  on 
the  adventure  which  he  had  narrated. 

'Young  men  will  no  doubt  think  one  to  be  envied,'  he 
said,  'who  was  thus  enabled  to  be  the  darling  and  ad- 

212 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

miration  of  the  court  (Julian  internally  stood  self-ex- 
culpated from  the  suspicion),  and  yet  it  is  better  to  pos- 
sess fewer  means  of  distinction,  and  remain  free  from 
the  backbiting,  the  slander,  and  the  odium  which  are 
always  the  share  of  court  favour.  Men,  who  had  no 
other  cause,  cast  reflections  upon  me  because  my  size 
varied  somewhat  from  the  common  proportion;  and  jests 
were  sometimes  unthinkingly  passed  upon  me  by  those 
I  was  bound  to,  who  did  not  in  that  case,  peradventure, 
sufficiently  consider  that  the  wren  is  made  by  the  same 
hand  which  formed  the  bustard,  and  that  the  diamond, 
though  small  in  size,  out-values  ten  thousand-fold  the 
rude  granite.  Nevertheless,  they  proceeded  in  the  vein 
of  humour ;  and  as  I  could  not  in  duty  or  gratitude  retort 
upon  nobles  and  princes,  I  was  compelled  to  cast  about 
in  my  mind  how  to  vindicate  my  honour  towards  those 
who,  being  in  the  same  rank  with  myself  as  servants  and 
courtiers,  nevertheless  bore  themselves  towards  me  as  if 
they  were  of  a  superior  class  in  the  rank  of  honour,  as 
well  as  in  the  accidental  circumstance  of  stature.  And 
as  a  lesson  to  my  own  pride  and  that  of  others,  it  so  hap- 
pened that  the  pageant  which  I  have  but  just  narrated 
—  which  I  justly  reckon  the  most  honourable  moment 
of  my  life,  excepting  perhaps  my  distinguished  share  in 
the  battle  of  Round-way-Down  —  became  the  cause  of 
a  most  tragic  event,  in  which  I  acknowledge  the  great- 
est misfortune  of  my  existence.' 

The  dwarf  here  paused,  fetched  a  sigh,  big  at  once 
with  regret  and  with  the  importance  becoming  the  sub- 
ject of  a  tragic  history ;  then  proceeded  as  follows :  — 

'You  would  have  thought  in  your  simplicity,  young 
gentleman,  that  the  pretty  pageant  I  have  mentioned 

213 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

could  only  have  been  quoted  to  my  advantage  as  a  rare 
masking  frolic,  prettily  devised,  and  not  less  deftly 
executed;  and  yet  the  malice  of  the  courtiers,  who  ma- 
ligned and  envied  me,  made  them  strain  their  wit  and 
exhaust  their  ingenuity  in  putting  false  and  ridiculous 
constructions  upon  it.  In  short,  my  ears  were  so  much 
offended  with  allusions  to  pies,  puff-paste,  ovens,  and 
the  like,  that  I  was  compelled  to  prohibit  such  subject 
of  mirth,  under  penalty  of  my  instant  and  severe  dis- 
pleasure. But  it  happ'd  there  was  then  a  gallant  about 
the  court,  a  man  of  good  quality,  son  to  a  knight  baronet, 
and  in  high  esteem  with  the  best  in  that  sphere,  also  a 
familiar  friend  of  mine  own,  from  whom,  therefore,  I  had 
no  reason  to  expect  any  of  that  species  of  gibing  which 
I  had  intimated  my  purpose  to  treat  as  offensive.  How- 
beit,  it  pleased  the  Honourable  Mr.  Crofts,  so  was  this 
youth  called  and  designed,  one  night,  at  the  groom  por- 
ter's, being  full  of  wine  and  waggery,  to  introduce  this 
threadbare  subject,  and  to  say  something  concerning 
a  goose-pie,  which  I  could  not  but  consider  as  levelled  at 
me.  Nevertheless,  I  did  but  calmly  and  solidly  pray  him 
to  choose  a  different  subject;  failing  which,  I  let  him 
know  I  should  be  sudden  in  my  resentment.  Notwith- 
standing, he  continued  in  the  same  tone,  and  even  ag- 
gravated the  offence  by  speaking  of  a  tomtit,  and  other 
unnecessary  and  obnoxious  comparisons;  whereupon  I 
was  compelled  to  send  him  a  cartel,  and  we  met  accord- 
ingly. Now,  as  I  really  loved  the  youth,  it  was  my  in- 
tention only  to  correct  him  by  a  flesh  wound  or  two;  and 
I  would  willingly  that  he  had  named  the  sword  for  his 
weapon.  Nevertheless,  he  made  pistols  his  election; 
and  being  on  horseback,  he  produced,  by  way  of  his 

214 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

own  weapon,  a  foolish  engine  which  children  are  wont, 
in  their  roguery,  to  use  for  spouting  water  —  a  —  a  — 
in  short  I  forget  the  name.' 

*A  squirt,  doubtless,'  said  Peveril,  who  began  to  re- 
collect having  heard  something  of  this  adventure. 

'You  are  right,'  said  the  dwarf:  'you  have  indeed  the 
name  of  the  little  engine,  of  which  I  have  had  experience 
in  passing  the  yards  at  Westminster.  Well,  sir,  this 
token  of  slight  regard  compelled  me  to  give  the  gentle- 
man such  language  as  soon  rendered  it  necessary  for 
him  to  take  more  serious  arms.  We  fought  on  horse- 
back—  breaking  ground  and  advancing  by  signal;  and, 
as  I  never  miss  aim,  I  had  the  misadventure  to  kill  the 
Honourable  Master  Crofts  at  the  first  shot.  I  would  not 
wish  my  worst  foe  the  pain  which  I  felt  when  I  saw  him 
reel  on  his  saddle,  and  so  fall  down  to  the  earth;  and, 
when  I  perceived  that  the  life-blood  was  pouring  fast, 
I  could  not  but  wish  to  Heaven  that  it  had  been  my  own 
instead  of  his.  Thus  fell  youth,  hopes,  and  bravery,  a 
sacrifice  to  a  silly  and  thoughtless  jest;  yet,  alas!  wherein 
had  I  choice,  seeing  that  honour  is,  as  it  were,  the  very 
breath  in  our  nostrils,  and  that  in  no  sense  can  we  be 
said  to  live  if  we  permit  ourselves  to  be  deprived  of  it? ' 

The  tone  of  feeUng  in  which  the  dwarfish  hero  con- 
cluded his  story  gave  Julian  a  better  opinion  of  his  heart, 
and  even  of  his  understanding,  than  he  had  been  able  to 
form  of  one  who  gloried  in  having,  upon  a  grand  occa- 
sion, formed  the  contents  of  a  pasty.  He  was  indeed 
enabled  to  conjecture  that  the  little  champion  was  se- 
duced into  such  exhibitions  by  the  necessity  attached  to 
his  condition,  by  his  own  vanity,  and  by  the  flattery 
bestowed  on  him  by  those  who  sought  pleasure  in  prac- 

215 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tical  jokes.  The  fate  of  the  unlucky  Master  Crofts, 
however,  as  well  as  various  exploits  of  this  diminutive 
person  during  the  Civil  Wars,  in  which  he  actually,  and 
with  great  gallantry,  commanded  a  troop  of  horse, 
rendered  most  men  cautious  of  openly  rallying  him; 
which  was  indeed  the  less  necessary,  as,  when  left  alone, 
he  seldom  failed  voluntarily  to  show  himself  on  the 
ludicrous  side. 

At  one  hour  after  noon,  the  turnkey,  true  to  his  word, 
supplied  the  prisoners  with  a  very  tolerable  dinner  and 
a  flask  of  well-flavoured,  though  light,  claret,  which  the 
old  man,  who  was  something  of  a  bon-vivant,  regretted  to 
observe  was  nearly  as  diminutive  as  himself.  The  even- 
ing also  passed  away,  but  not  without  continued  symp- 
toms of  garrulity  on  the  part  of  Geoffrey  Hudson. 

It  is  true,  these  were  of  a  graver  character  than  he  had 
hitherto  exhibited,  for,  when  the  flask  was  empty,  he 
repeated  a  long  Latin  prayer.  But  the  religious  act  in 
which  he  had  been  engaged  only  gave  his  discourse  a 
more  serious  turn  than  belonged  to  his  former  themes  of 
war,  lady's  love,  and  courtly  splendour. 

The  little  knight  harangued,  at  first  on  polemical 
points  of  divinity,  and  diverged  from  this  thorny  path 
into  the  neighbouring  and  twilight  walk  of  mysticism. 
He  talked  of  secret  warnings,  of  the  predictions  of  sad- 
eyed  prophets,  of  the  visits  of  monitory  spirits,  and  the 
Rosicrucian  secrets  of  the  Cabala;  all  which  topics  he 
treated  of  with  such  apparent  conviction,  nay,  with  so 
many  appeals  to  personal  ex-perience,  that  one  would 
have  supposed  him  a  member  of  the  fraternity  of  gnomes, 
or  fairies,  whom  he  resembled  so  much  in  point  of  size. 

In  short,  he  persevered  for  a  stricken  hour  in  such  a 

216 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

torrent  of  unnecessary  tattle  as  determined  Peveril,  at 
all  events,  to  endeavour  to  procure  a  separate  lodging. 
Having  repeated  his  evening  prayers  in  Latin,  as  for- 
merly, for  the  old  gentleman  was  a  Catholic,  which  was 
the  sole  cause  of  his  falling  under  suspicion,  he  set  off  on 
a  new  score,  as  they  were  undressing;  and  continued  to 
prattle  until  he  had  fairly  talked  both  himself  and  his 
companion  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


Of  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names/ 

Comus. 


Julian  had  fallen  asleep  with  his  brain  rather  filled  with 
his  own  sad  reflections  than  with  the  mystical  lore  of 
the  little  knight;  and  yet  it  seemed  as  if  in  his  visions 
the  latter  had  been  more  present  to  his  mind  than  the 
former. 

He  dreamed  of  gliding  ■  spirits,  gibbering  phantoms, 
bloody  hands,  which,  dimly  seen  by  twihght,  seemed  to 
beckon  him  forward  like  errant-knight  on  sad  adventure 
bound.  More  than  once  he  started  from  his  sleep,  so 
lively  was  the  influence  of  these  visions  on  his  imagina- 
tion; and  he  always  awaked  under  the  impression  that 
some  one  stood  by  his  bedside.  The  chillness  of  his 
ankles,  the  weight  and  clatter  of  the  fetters,  as  he  turned 
himself  on  his  pallet,  reminded  him  on  these  occasions 
where  he  was,  and  imder  what  circumstances.  The  ex- 
tremity to  which  he  saw  all  that  was  dear  to  him  at 
present  reduced  struck  a  deeper  cold  on  his  heart  than 
the  iron  upon  his  limbs;  nor  could  he  compose  himself 
again  to  rest  without  a  mental  prayer  to  Heaven  for 
protection.  But  when  he  had  been  for  a  third  time 
awakened  from  repose  by  these  thick-stirring  fancies, 
his  distress  of  mind  vented  itself  in  speech,  and  he  was 
unable  to  suppress  the  almost  despairing  ejaculation, 
*  God  have  mercy  upon  us ! ' 

*  Amen! '  answered  a  voice  as  sweet  and  'soft  as  honey 

218 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

dew/  which  sounded  as  if  the  words  were  spoken  close 
by  his  bedside. 

The  natural  inference  was  that  Geoffrey  Hudson,  his 
companion  in  calamity,  had  echoed  the  prayer  which 
was  so  proper  to  the  situation  of  both.  But  the  tone  of 
voice  was  so  different  from  the  harsh  and  dissonant 
sounds  of  the  dwarf's  enunciation,  that  Peveril  was  im- 
pressed with  the  certainty  it  could  not  proceed  from 
Hudson.  He  was  struck  with  involuntary  terror,  for 
which  he  could  give  no  sufficient  reason ;  and  it  was  not 
without  an  effort  that  he  was  able  to  utter  the  question 
'Sir  Geoffrey,  did  you  speak?' 

No  answer  was  returned.  He  repeated  the  question 
louder;  and  the  same  silver- toned  voice  which  had  for- 
merly said  '  Amen '  to  his  prayers  answered  to  his  inter- 
rogatory, *  Your  companion  will  not  awake  while  I  am 
here.' 

'And  who  are  you?  What  seek  you?  How  came  you 
into  this  place?'  said  Peveril,  huddling,  eagerly,  ques- 
tion upon  question. 

*I  am  a  wretched  being,  but  one  who  loves  you  well. 
I  come  for  your  good.    Concern  yourself  no  further.' 

It  now  rushed  on  Julian's  mind  that  he  had  heard  of 
persons  possessed  of  the  wonderful  talent  of  counter- 
feiting sounds  to  such  accuracy  that  they  could  impose 
on  their  hearers  the  belief  that  they  proceeded  from  a 
point  of  the  apartment  entirely  opposite  to  that  which 
the  real  speaker  occupied.  Persuaded  that  he  had  now 
gained  the  depth  of  the  mystery,  he  replied,  *  This  trifling, 
Sir  Geoffrey,  is  unseasonable.  Say  what  you  have  to  say 
in  your  own  voice  and  manner.  These  apish  pleasantries 
do  not  become  midnight  in  a  Newgate  dungeon.' 

219 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'But  the  being  who  speaks  with  you,'  answered  the 
voice, '  is  fitted  for  the  darkest  hour  and  the  most  melan- 
choly haunts.' 

Impatient  of  suspense,  and  determined  to  satisfy  his 
curiosity,  Julian  jumped  at  once  from  his  pallet,  hoping 
to  secure  the  speaker,  whose  voice  indicated  he  was  so 
near.  But  he  altogether  failed  in  his  attempt,  and  grasped 
nothing  save  thin  air. 

For  a  turn  or  two,  Peveril  shuffled  at  random  about 
the  room,  with  his  arms  extended;  and  then  at  last  re- 
collected that,  with  the  impediment  of  his  shackles,  and 
the  noise  which  necessarily  accompanied  his  motions, 
and  announced  where  he  was,  it  would  be  impossible 
for  him  to  lay  hands  on  any  one  who  might  be  disposed 
to  keep  out  of  his  reach.  He  therefore  endeavoured  to 
return  to  his  bed ;  but,  in  groping  for  his  way.  Ugh  ted  first 
on  that  of  his  fellow-prisoner.  The  little  captive  slept 
deep  and  heavy,  as  was  evinced  from  his  breathing ;  and 
upon  listening  a  moment,  Julian  became  again  certain, 
either  that  his  companion  was  the  most  artful  of  ventrilo- 
quists and  of  dissemblers,  or  that  there  was  actually 
within  the  precints  of  that  guarded  chamber  some  third 
being,  whose  very  presence  there  seemed  to  intimate 
that  it  belonged  not  to  the  ordinary  line  of  humanity, 

Julian  was  no  ready  believer  in  the  supernatural;  but 
that  age  was  very  far  from  being  so  incredulous  concern- 
ing ghostly  occurrences  as  our  own;  and  it  was  no  way 
derogatory  to  his  good  sense  that  he  shared  the  preju- 
dices of  his  time.  His  hair  began  to  bristle,  and  the 
moisture  to  stand  on  his  brow,  as  he  called  on  his  com- 
panion to  awake,  for  Heaven's  sake. 

The  dwarf  answered  —  but  he  spoke  without  awak- 
220 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ing  —  '  The  day  may  dawn  and  be  d — d.  Tell  the  master 
of  the  house  I  will  not  go  to  the  hunting,  unless  I  have 
the  little  black  jennet.' 

*  I  tell  you,'  said  Julian , '  there  is  some  one  in  the  apart- 
ment. Have  you  not  a  tinder-box  to  strike  a  light? ' 

*I  care  not  how  slight  my  horse  be,'  replied  the  slum- 
berer,  pursuing  his  own  train  of  ideas,  which,  doubtless, 
carried  him  back  to  the  green  woods  of  Windsor,  and 
the  royal  deer-hunts  which  he  had  witnessed  there.  *I 
am  not  over-weight.  I  will  not  ride  that  great  Holstein 
brute,  that  I  must  climb  up  to  by  a  ladder,  and  then  sit 
on  his  back  like  a  pin-cushion  on  an  elephant.' 

Julian  at  length  put  his  hand  to  the  sleeper's  shoulder 
and  shook  him  so  as  to  awake  him  from  his  dream; 
when,  after  two  or  three  snorts  and  groans,  the  dwarf 
asked,  peevishly,  'What  the  devil  ailed  him?' 

'The  devil  himself,  for  what  I  know,'  said  Peveril,  'is 
at  this  very  moment  in  the  room  here  beside  us.' 

The  dwarf  on  this  information  started  up,  crossed  him- 
self, and  began  to  hammer  a  flint  and  steel  with  all  de- 
spatch, until  he  had  lighted  a  little  piece  of  candle,  which 
he  said  was  consecrated  to  St.  Bridget,  and  as  powerful 
as  the  herb  called  fuga  dcemonum,  or  the  liver  of  the  fish 
burnt  by  Tobit  in  the  house  of  Raguel,  for  chasing  all 
goblins  and  evil  or  dubious  spirits  from  the  place  of  its 
radiance;  'if,  indeed,'  as  the  dwarf  carefully  guarded  his 
proposition, 'they  existed  anywhere,  save  in  the  imagin- 
ation of  his  fellow-prisoner.' 

Accordingly,  the  apartment  was  no  sooner  enlight- 
ened by  this  holy  candle's  end  than  Julian  began  to  doubt 
the  evidence  of  his  own  ears;  for  not  only  was  there  no 
one  in  the  room  save  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson  and  himself, 

221 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

but  all  the  fastenings  of  the  door  were  so  secure  that  it 
seemed  impossible  that  they  could  have  been  opened 
and  again  fixed,  without  a  great  deal  of  noise,  which,  on 
the  last  occasion  at  least,  could  not  possibly  have  es- 
caped his  ears,  seeing  that  he  must  have  been  on  his  feet, 
and  employed  in  searching  the  chamber,  when  the  un- 
known, if  an  earthly,  being  was  in  the  act  of  retreating 
from  it. 

Julian  gazed  for  a  moment  with  great  earnestness,  and 
no  little  perplexity,  first  on  the  bolted  door,  then  on  the 
grated  window;  and  began  to  accuse  his  own  imagina- 
tion of  having  played  him  an  unpleasant  trick.  He  an- 
swered little  to  the  questions  of  Hudson,  and  returning 
to  his  bed,  heard,  in  silence,  a  long  studied  oration  on 
the  merits  of  St.  Bridget,  which  comprehended  the 
greater  part  of  her  long-winded  legend,  and  concluded 
with  the  assurance  that,  from  all  accounts  preserved  of 
her,  that  holy  saint  was  the  least  of  all  possible  women, 
except  those  of  the  pigmy  kind. 

By  the  time  the  dwarf  had  ceased  to  speak,  Julian's 
desire  of  sleep  had  returned;  and  after  a  few  glances 
around  the  apartment,  which  was  still  illuminated  by 
the  expiring  beams  of  the  holy  taper,  his  eyes  were  again 
closed  in  forgetfulness,  and  his  repose  was  not  again  dis- 
turbed in  the  course  of  that  night. 

Morning  dawns  on  Newgate,  as  well  as  on  the  freest 
mountain- turf  which  Welshman  or  wild  goat  ever  trode ; 
but  in  so  different  a  fashion,  that  the  very  beams  of 
heaven's  precious  sun,  when  they  penetrate  into  the 
recesses  of  the  prison-house,  have  the  air  of  being  com- 
mitted to  jail.  Still,  with  the  Hght  of  day  around  him, 
Peveril  easily  persuaded  himself  of  the  vanity  of  his 

222 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

preceding  night's  visions;  and  smiled  when  he  reflected 
that  fancies,  similar  to  those  to  which  his  ear  was  often 
exposed  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  had  been  able  to  arrange 
themselves  in  a  manner  so  impressive,  when  he  heard 
them  from  the  mouth  of  so  singular  a  character  as  Hud- 
son, and  in  the  solitude  of  a  prison. 

Before  Julian  had  awaked,  the  dwarf  had  already 
quitted  his  bed,  and  was  seated  in  the  chimney-corner 
of  the  apartment,  where,  with  his  own  hands,  he  had 
arranged  a  morsel  of  fire,  partly  attending  to  the  sim- 
mering of  a  small  pot,  which  he  had  placed  on  the  flame, 
partly  occupied  with  a  huge  folio  volume  which  lay  on  the 
table  before  him,  and  seemed  well-nigh  as  tall  and  bulky 
as  himself.  He  was  wrapped  up  in  the  dusky  crimson 
cloak  already  mentioned,  which  served  him  for  a  morn- 
ing-gown as  well  as  a  mantle  against  the  cold,  and 
which  corresponded  with  a  large  montero  cap,  that  en- 
veloped his  head.  The  singularity  of  his  features,  and  of 
the  eyes,  armed  with  spectacles,  which  were  now  cast 
on  the  subject  of  his  studies,  now  directed  towards  his 
little  caldron,  would  have  tempted  Rembrandt  to  ex- 
hibit him  on  canvas,  either  in  the  character  of  an  al- 
chemist or  of  a  necromancer,  engaged  in  some  strange 
experiment,  under  the  direction  of  one  of  the  huge  man- 
uals which  treat  of  the  theory  of  these  mystic  arts. 

The  attention  of  the  dwarf  was  bent,  however,  upon  a 
more  domestic  object.  He  was  only  preparing  soup,  of 
no  unsavoury  quality,  for  breakfast,  which  he  invited 
Peveril  to  partake  with  him.  *I  am  an  old  soldier,'  he 
said,  'and,  I  must  add,  an  old  prisoner;  and  understand 
how  to  shift  for  myself  better  than  you  can  do,  young 
man.  Confusion  to  the  scoundrel  Clink,  he  has  put  the 

223 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

spice-box  out  of  my  reach!  Will  you  hand  it  me  from 
the  mantelpiece!  I  will  teach  you,  as  the  French  have 
it,  f aire  la  cuisine;  and  then,  if  you  please,  we  will  divide, 
like  brethren,  the  labours  of  our  prison-house.' 

Julian  readily  assented  to  the  little  man's  friendly  pro- 
posal, without  interposing  any  doubt  as  to  his  continu- 
ing an  inmate  of  the  same  cell.  Truth  is,  that  although, 
upon  the  whole,  he  was  inclined  to  regard  the  whispering 
voice  of  the  preceding  evening  as  the  impression  of  his 
own  excited  fancy,  he  felt,  nevertheless,  curiosity  to  see 
how  a  second  night  was  to  pass  over  in  the  same  cell; 
and  the  tone  of  the  invisible  intruder,  which  at  midnight 
had  been  heard  by  him  with  terror,  now  excited  on  recol- 
lection a  gentle  and  not  unpleasing  species  of  agitation 
—  the  combined  effect  of  awe  and  of  awakened  curiosity. 

Days  of  captivity  have  little  to  mark  them  as  they 
glide  away.  That  which  followed  the  night  which  we 
have  described  afforded  no  circumstance  of  note.  The 
dwarf  imparted  to  his  youthful  companion  a  volume 
similar  to  that  which  formed  his  own  studies,  and  which 
proved  to  be  a  tome  of  one  of  Scuderi's  now  forgotten 
romances,  of  which  Geoffrey  Hudson  was  a  great  ad- 
mirer, and  which  were  then  very  fashionable  both  at  the 
French  and  English  courts;  although  they  contrive  to 
unite  in  their  immense  folios  all  the  improbabilities  and 
absurdities  of  the  old  romances  of  chivalry,  without  that 
tone  of  imagination  which  pervades  them,  and  all  the 
metaphysical  absurdities  which  Cowley  and  the  poets 
of  the  age  had  heaped  upon  the  passion  of  love,  Hke  so 
many  load  of  small  coal  upon  a  slender  fire,  which  it 
smothers  instead  of  aiding. 

But  Julian  had  no  alternative  saving  only  to  muse 
224 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

over  the  sorrows  of  Artamenes  and  Mandane,  or  on  the 
complicated  distresses  of  his  own  sitiiation;  and  in  these 
disagreeable  divertisements  the  morning  crept  through 
as  it  could. 

Noon  first,  and  thereafter  nightfall,  were  successively 
marked  by  a  brief  visit  from  their  stern  turnkey,  who, 
with  noiseless  step  and  sullen  demeanour,  did  in  silence 
the  necessary  offices  about  the  meals  of  the  prisoners, 
exchanging  with  them  as  few  words  as  an  ofiicial  in  the 
Spanish  Inquisition  might  have  permitted  himself  upon 
a  similar  occasion.  With  the  same  taciturn  gravity, 
very  different  from  the  laughing  humour  into  which  he 
had  been  surprised  on  a  former  occasion,  he  struck  their 
fetters  with  a  small  hammer,  to  ascertain,  by  the  sound 
thus  produced,  whether  they  had  been  tampered  with 
by  file  or  otherwise.  He  next  mounted  on  a  table  to  make 
the  same  experiment  on  the  window-grating. 

Julian's  heart  throbbed;  for  might  not  one  of  those 
grates  have  been  so  tampered  with  as  to  give  entrance 
to  the  nocturnal  visitant?  But  they  returned  to  the 
experienced  ear  of  Master  Clink,  when  he  struck  them 
in  turn  with  the  hammer,  a  clear  and  ringing  sound, 
which  assured  him  of  their  security. 

'It  would  be  difficult  for  any  one  to  get  in  through 
these  defences,'  said  Julian,  giving  vent  in  words  to  his 
own  feelings. 

'Few  wish  that,'  answered  the  surly  groom,  miscon- 
struing what  was  passing  in  Peveril's  mind;  'and  let  me 
tell  you,  master,  folks  will  find  it  quite  as  difficult  to  get 
out.'  He  retired,  and  night  came  on. 

The  dwarf,  who  took  upon  himself  for  the  day  the 
whole  duties  of  the  apartment,  trundled  about  the  room, 

S8  225 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

making  a  most  important  clutter  as  he  extinguished  their 
fire,  and  put  aside  various  matters  which  had  been  in 
use  in  the  course  of  the  day,  talking  to  himself  all  the 
while  in  a  tone  of  no  little  consequence,  occasionally 
grounded  on  the  dexterity  with  which  an  old  soldier 
could  turn  his  hand  to  everything,  and  at  other  times  on 
the  wonder  that  a  courtier  of  the  first  rank  should  conde- 
scend to  turn  his  hand  to  anything.  Then  came  the 
repetition  of  his  accustomed  prayers;  but  his  disposi- 
tion to  converse  did  not,  as  on  the  former  occasion, 
revive  after  his  devotions.  On  the  contrary,  long  before 
Julian  had  closed  an  eye,  the  heavy  breathing  from  Sir 
Geoffrey  Hudson's  pallet  declared  that  the  dwarf  was 
already  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus. 

Amid  the  total  darkness  of  the  apartment,  and  with  a 
longing  desire,  and  at  the  same  time  no  small  fear,  for  the 
recurrence  of  the  mysterious  address  of  the  preceding 
evening,  Julian  lay  long  awake  without  his  thoughts 
receiving  any  interruption,  save  when  the  clock  told  the 
passing  hour  from  the  neighbouring  steeple  of  St.  Sepul- 
chre. At  length  he  sunk  into  slumber;  but  had  not  slept, 
to  his  judgment,  above  an  hour,  when  he  was  roused  by 
the  sound  which  his  waking  ear  had  so  long  expected  in 
vain. 

'Can  you  sleep?  Will  you  sleep?  Dare  you  sleep?' 
were  the  questions  impressed  on  his  ear,  in  the  same 
clear,  soft,  and  melodious  voice  which  had  addressed 
him  on  the  preceding  night. 

'Who  is  it  asks  me  the  question?'  answered  Julian. 
'  But  be  the  questioner  good  or  evil,  I  reply  that  I  am  a 
guiltless  prisoner,  and  that  innocence  may  wish  and  dare 
to  sleep  soundly.' 

226 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Ask  no  questions  of  me,'  said  the  voice,  'neither 
attempt  to  discover  who  speaks  to  you ;  and  be  assured 
that  folly  alone  can  sleep,  with  fraud  around  and  danger 
before  him.' 

*  Can  you,  who  tell  me  of  dangers,  counsel  me  how  to 
combat  or  how  to  avoid  them? '  said  Julian. 

'  My  power  is  limited,'  said  the  voice ; '  yet  something  I 
can  do,  as  a  glow-worm  can  show  a  precipice.  But  you 
must  confide  in  me.' 

'  Confidence  must  beget  confidence,'  answered  Julian. 
*I  cannot  repose  trust  in  I  know  not  what  or  whom.' 

'Speak  not  so  loud,'  replied  the  voice,  sinking  almost 
into  a  whisper. 

'  Last  night  you  said  my  companion  would  not  awake,' 
said  Julian. 

'To-night  I  warrant  not  that  he  shall  sleep,'  said  the 
voice.  And  as  it  spoke,  the  hoarse,  snatching,  discordant 
tones  of  the  dwarf  were  heard,  demanding  of  Julian  why 
he  talked  in  his  sleep ;  wherefore  he  did  not  rest  himself, 
and  let  other  people  rest;  and,  finally,  whether  his  visions 
of  last  night  were  returned  upon  him  again? 

'  Say  "  yes, " '  said  the  voice,  in  a  whisper  so  low,  yet  so 
distinct,  that  Julian  almost  doubted  whether  it  was  not 
an  echo  of  his  own  thought  —  'say  but  "yes,"  and  I 
part  to  return  no  more ! ' 

In  desperate  circumstances  men  look  to  strange  and 
unusual  remedies;  and  although  unable  to  calculate  the 
chances  of  advantage  which  this  singular  communica- 
tion opened  to  him,  Julian  did  not  feel  inclined  to  let 
them  at  once  escape  from  him.  He  answered  the  dwarf, 
that  he  had  been  troubled  by  an  alarming  dream. 

'I  could  have  sworn  it,  from  the  sound  of  your  voice,' 
227 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

said  Hudson.  *It  is  strange,  now,  that  you  overgrown 
men  never  possess  the  extreme  firmness  of  nerves  proper 
to  us  who  are  cast  in  a  more  compact  mould.  My  own 
voice  retains  its  masculine  sounds  on  all  occasions.  Dr. 
Cockerel  was  of  opinion  that  there  was  the  same  allow- 
ance of  nerve  and  sinew  to  men  of  every  size,  and  that 
nature  spun  the  stock  out  thinner  or  stronger,  according 
to  the  extent  of  surface  which  they  were  to  cover.  Hence, 
the  least  creatures  are  oftentimes  the  strongest.  Place  a 
beetle  under  a  tall  candlestick,  and  the  insect  will  move 
it  by  its  efforts  to  get  out;  which  is,  in  point  of  com- 
parative strength,  as  if  one  of  us  should  shake  his 
Majesty's  prison  of  Newgate  by  similar  struggles.  Cats 
also,  and  weasels,  are  creatures  of  greater  exertion  and 
endurance  than  dogs  or  sheep.  And  in  general  you  may 
remark  that  little  men  dance  better,  and  are  more 
unwearied  under  exertion  of  every  kind,  than  those  to 
whom  their  own  weight  must  necessarily  be  burdensome. 
I  respect  you,  Master  Peveril,  because  I  am  told  you 
have  killed  one  of  those  gigantic  fellows,  who  go  about 
swaggering  as  if  their  souls  were  taller  than  ours,  because 
their  noses  are  nearer  to  the  clouds  by  a  cubit  or  two. 
But  do  not  value  yourself  on  this,  as  anything  very  un- 
usual. I  would  have  you  to  know  it  hath  been  always 
thus;  and  that,  in  the  history  of  all  ages,  the  clean,  tight, 
dapper,  little  fellow  hath  proved  an  overmatch  for  his 
bulky  antagonist.  I  need  only  instance,  out  of  Holy 
Writ,  the  celebrated  downfall  of  Goliath,  and  of  another 
lubbard,  who  had  more  fingers  to  his  hand  and  more 
inches  to  his  stature  than  ought  to  belong  to  an  honest 
man,  and  who  was  slain  by  a  nephew  of  good  King  David; 
and  of  many  others  whom  I  do  not  remember;  neverthe- 

228 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

less,  they  were  all  Philistines  of  gigantic  stature.  In  the 
classics,  also,  you  have  Tydeus,  and  other  tight,  compact 
heroes,  whose  diminutive  bodies  were  the  abode  of  large 
minds.  And  indeed  you  may  observe,  in  sacred  as  well  as 
profane  history,  that  your  giants  are  ever  heretics  and 
blasphemers,  robbers  and  oppressors,  outragers  of  the 
female  sex,  and  scoffers  at  regular  authority.  Such  were 
Gog  and  Magog,  whom  our  authentic  chronicles  vouch 
to  have  been  slain  near  to  Plymouth,  by  the  good  Httle 
knight  Corineus,  who  gave  name  to  Cornwall.  Asca- 
parte  also  was  subdued  by  Bevis,  and  Colbrand  by  Guy, 
as  Southampton  and  Warwick  can  testify.  Like  unto 
these  was  the  giant  Hoel,  slain  in  Bretagne  by  King 
Arthur.  And  if  Ryence,  king  of  North  Wales,  who  was 
done  to  death  by  the  same  worthy  champion  of  Chris- 
tendom, be  not  actually  termed  a  giant,  it  is  plain  he  was 
Httle  better,  since  he  required  twenty-four  kings'  beards, 
which  were  then  worn  full  and  long,  to  fur  his  gown; 
whereby,  computing  each  beard  at  eighteen  inches  — 
and  you  cannot  allow  less  for  a  beard-royal  —  and 
supposing  only  the  front  of  the  gown  trimmed  therewith, 
as  we  use  ermine,  and  that  the  back  was  mounted  and 
lined,  instead  of  cat-skins  and  squirrels'  fur,  with  the 
beards  of  earls  and  dukes  and  other  inferior  dignitaries, 
may  amount  to —  But  I  will  work  the  question  to-mor- 
row.' 

Nothing  is  more  soporific  to  any,  save  a  philosopher 
or  monied  man,  than  the  operation  of  figures;  and  when 
in  bed  the  effect  is  irresistible.  Sir  Geoffrey  fell  asleep 
in  the  act  of  calculating  King  Ryence's  height  from  the 
supposed  length  of  his  mantle.  Indeed,  had  he  not  stum- 
bled on  this  abstruse  subject  of  calculation,  there  is  no 

229 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

guessing  how  long  he  might  have  held  forth  upon  the 
superiority  of  men  of  little  stature,  which  was  so  great  a 
favourite  with  him  that,  numerous  as  such  narratives 
are,  the  dwarf  had  collected  almost  all  the  instances  of 
their  victories  over  giants  which  history  or  romance 
afforded. 

No  sooner  had  unequivocal  signs  of  the  dwarf's  sound 
slumbers  reached  Julian's  ears  than  he  began  again  to 
listen  eagerly  for  the  renewal  of  that  mysterious  com- 
munication which  was  at  once  interesting  and  awful. 
Even  whilst  Hudson  was  speaking,  he  had,  instead  of 
bestowing  his  attention  upon  his  eulogy  on  persons  of 
low  stature,  kept  his  eajs  on  watchful  guard,  to  mark,  if 
possible,  the  Hghtest  sounds  of  any  sort  which  might 
occur  in  the  apartment;  so  that  he  thought  it  scarce 
possible  that  even  a  fly  should  have  left  it  without  its 
motion  being  overheard.  If,  therefore,  his  invisible  moni- 
tor was  indeed  a  creature  of  this  world  —  an  opinion 
which  Julian's  sound  sense  rendered  him  unwilling  to 
renounce  —  that  being  could  not  have  left  the  apart- 
ment; and  he  waited  impatiently  for  a  renewal  of  their 
communication.  He  was  disappointed:  not  the  slightest 
sound  reached  his  ear ;  and  the  nocturnal  visitor,  if  still 
in  the  room,  appeared  determined  on  silence. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Peveril  coughed,  hemmed,  and 
gave  other  symptoms  of  being  awake;  at  length,  such 
became  his  impatience  that  he  resolved,  at  any  risk,  to 
speak  first,  in  hopes  of  renewing  the  communication 
betwixt  them.  'Whoever  thou  art,'  he  said,  in  a  voice 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  a  waking  person,  but  not  so 
high  as  to  disturb  his  sleeping  companion  —  '  whoever 
or  whatever  thou  art,  that  hast  shown  some  interest  in 

230 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  fate  of  such  a  castaway  as  Julian  Peveril,  speak  once 
more,  I  conjure  thee;  and  be  your  communication  for 
good  or  evil,  believe  me,  I  am  equally  prepared  to  abide 
the  issue.' 

No  answer  of  any  kind  was  returned  to  this  invoca- 
tion; nor  did  the  least  sound  intimate  the  presence  of 
the  being  to  whom  it  was  so  solemnly  addressed. 

'I  speak  in  vain,'  said  Julian;  'and  perhaps  I  am  but 
invoking  that  which  is  insensible  of  human  feehng,  or 
which  takes  a  malign  pleasure  in  human  suffering.' 

There  was  a  gentle  and  half-broken  sigh  from  a  corner 
of  the  apartment,  which,  answering  to  this  exclamation, 
seemed  to  contradict  the  imputation  which  it  con- 
veyed. 

JuHan,  naturally  courageous,  and  famiHarised  by  this 
time  to  his  situation,  raised  himself  in  bed  and  stretched 
out  his  arm  to  repeat  his  adjuration,  when  the  voice,  as 
if  alarmed  at  his  action  and  energy,  whispered,  in  a  tone 
more  hurried  than  that  which  it  had  hitherto  used,  'Be 
still  —  move  not  —  or  I  am  mute  for  ever ! ' 

'  It  is  then  a  mortal  being  who  is  present  with  me,'  was 
the  natural  inference  of  Julian,  'and  one  who  is  probably 
afraid  of  being  detected;  I  have  then  some  power  over 
my  visitor,  though  I  must  be  cautious  how  I  use  it.  If 
your  intents  are  friendly,'  he  proceeded, '  there  was  never 
a  time  in  which  I  lacked  friends  more,  or  would  be  more 
grateful  for  kindness.  The  fate  of  all  who  are  dear  to  me 
is  weighed  in  the  balance,  and  with  worlds  would  I  buy 
the  tidings  of  their  safety.' 

'I  have  said  my  power  is  limited,'  replied  the  voice. 
'  You  I  may  be  able  to  preserve;  the  fate  of  your  friends 
is  beyond  my  control.' 

231 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*Let  me  at  least  know  it,'  said  Julian; '  and,  be  it  as  it 
may,  I  will  not  shun  to  share  it.' 

*  For  whom  would  you  inquire  ? '  said  the  soft,  sweet 
voice,  not  without  a  tremulousness  of  accent,  as  if  the 
question  was  put  with  diffident  reluctance. 

*My  parents,'  said  Julian,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion ;  *  how  fare  they  ?  What  will  be  their  fate? ' 

'  They  fare  as  the  fort  under  which  the  enemy  has  dug 
a  deadly  mine.  The  work  may  have  cost  the  labour  of 
years,  such  were  the  impediments  to  the  engineers;  but 
Time  brings  opportunity  upon  its  wings.' 

'And  what  will  be  the  event?'  said  Peveril. 

'Can  I  read  the  future,'  answered  the  voice,  'save  by 
comparison  with  the  past?  Who  has  been  hunted  on 
these  stern  and  unmitigable  accusations,  but  has  been 
at  last  brought  to  bay?  Did  high  and  noble  birth,  hon- 
oured age,  and  approved  benevolence  save  the  unfortu- 
nate Lord  Stafford?  Did  learning,  capacity  of  intrigue, 
or  high  court  favour  redeem  Coleman,  although  the  con- 
fidential servant  of  the  heir  presumptive  of  the  crown  of 
England?  Did  subtilty  and  genius,  and  the  exertions  of 
a  numerous  sect,  save  Fenwicke,  or  Whitbread,  or  any 
other  of  the  accused  priests?  Were  Groves,  Pickering, 
or  the  other  humble  wretches  who  have  suffered,  safe  in 
their  obscurity?  There  is  no  condition  in  Uf e,  no  degree  of 
talent,  no  form  of  principle,  which  affords  protection 
against  an  accusation  which  levels  conditions,  confounds 
characters,  renders  men's  virtues  their  sins,  and  rates 
them  as  dangerous  in  proportion  as  they  have  influence, 
though  attained  in  the  noblest  manner,  and  used  for  the 
best  purposes.  Call  such  a  one  but  an  accessary  to  the 
Plot,  let  him  be  mouthed  in  the  evidence  of  Gates  or 

232 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Dugdale,  and  the  blindest  shall  foresee  the  issue  of  their 
trial' 

'Prophet  of  evil!'  said  Julian,  'my  father  has  a  shield 
invulnerable  to  protect  him.  He  is  innocent.' 

'Let  him  plead  his  innocence  at  the  bar  of  Heaven/ 
said  the  voice;  'it  will  serve  him  little  where  Scroggs 
presides.' 

'  Still  I  fear  not,'  said  Julian,  counterfeiting  more  con- 
fidence than  he  really  possessed;  'my  father's  cause  will 
be  pleaded  before  twelve  Englishmen.' 

'Better  before  twelve  wild  beasts,'  answered  the  In- 
visible, '  than  before  Englishmen  influenced  with  party, 
prejudice,  passion,  and  the  epidemic  terror  of  an  imagi- 
nary danger.  They  are  bold  in  guilt  in  proportion  to  the 
number  amongst  whom  the  crime  is  divided.' 

'Ill-omened  speaker,'  said  Julian,  'thine  is  indeed  a 
voice  fitted  only  to  sound  with  the  midnight  bell  and  the 
screech-owl.  Yet  speak  again.  Tell  me,  if  thou  canst/ 
he  would  have  said, '  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,'  but  the  word 
would  not  leave  his  tongue  —  'tell  me,'  he  said,  'if  the 
noble  house  of  Derby  — ' 

'Let  them  keep  their  rock  like  the  sea-fowl  in  the  tem- 
pest, and  it  may  so  fall  out,'  answered  the  voice,  'that 
their  rock  may  be  a  safe  refuge.  But  there  is  blood  on 
their  ermine;  and  revenge  has  dogged  them  for  many  a 
year,  like  a  bloodhound  that  hath  been  distanced  in  the 
morning  chase,  but  may  yet  grapple  the  quarry  ere  the 
sun  shall  set.  At  present,  however,  they  are  safe.  Am  I 
now  to  speak  further  on  your  own  affairs,  which  involve 
little  short  of  your  life  and  honour,  or  are  there  yet  any 
whose  interests  you  prefer  to  your  own? ' 

'There  is,'  said  Julian,  'one,  from  whom  I  was  vio- 

233 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

lently  parted  yesterday;  if  I  knew  but  of  her  safety,  I 
were  little  anxious  for  my  own.' 

'  One ! '  returned  the  voice,  *  only  one  from  whom  you 
were  parted  yesterday?' 

*But  in  parting  from  whom,'  said  Julian,  *I  felt  sepa- 
rated from  all  happiness  which  the  world  can  give  me.' 

'You  mean  Alice  Bridgenorth,'  said  the  Invisible, 
with  some  bitterness  of  accent ;  '  but  her  you  will  never 
see  more.  Your  own  life  and  hers  depend  on  your  for- 
getting each  other.' 

'I  cannot  .purchase  my  own  life  at  that  price,'  replied 
Julian. 

'Then  die  in  your  obstinacy,'  returned  the  Invisible; 
nor  to  all  the  entreaties  which  he  used  was  he  able  to 
obtain  another  word  in  the  course  of  that  remarkable 
night. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

A  short-hough'd  man,  but  full  of  pride. 


Allan  Ramsay. 


The  blood  of  Julian  Peveril  was  so  much  fevered  by  the 
state  in  which  his  invisible  visitor  left  him,  that  he  was 
unable,  for  a  length  of  time,  to  find  repose.  He  swore  to 
himself  that  he  would  discover  and  expose  the  nocturnal 
demon  which  stole  on  his  hours  of  rest  only  to  add  gall 
to  bitterness,  and  to  pour  poison  into  those  wounds 
which  already  smarted  so  severely.  There  was  nothing 
which  his  power  extended  to  that,  in  his  rage,  he  did  not 
threaten.  He  proposed  a  closer  and  a  more  rigorous  sur- 
vey of  his  cell,  so  that  he  might  discover  the  mode  by 
which  his  tormentor  entered,  were  it  as  unnoticeable  as 
an  auger-hole.  If  his  diligence  should  prove  unavailing, 
he  determined  to  inform  the  jailors,  to  whom  it  could  not 
be  indifferent  to  know  that  their  prison  was  open  to  such 
intrusions.  He  proposed  to  himself  to  discover  from 
their  looks  whether  they  were  already  privy  to  these 
visits;  and  if  so,  to  denounce  them  to  the  magistrates, 
to  the  judges,  to  the  House  of  Commons,  was  the  least 
that  his  resentment  proposed.  Sleep  surprised  his  worn- 
out  frame  in  the  midst  of  his  projects  of  discovery  and 
vengeance,  and,  as  frequently  happens,  the  light  of  the 
ensuing  day  proved  favourable  to  calmer  resolutions. 

He  now  reflected  that  he  had  no  ground  to  consider  the 
motives  of  his  visitor  as  positively  malevolent,  although 
he  had  afforded  him  little  encouragement  to  hope  for 

235 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

assistance  on  the  points  he  had  most  at  heart.  Towards 
himself  there  had  been  expressed  a  decided  feeling  both 
of  sympathy  and  interest;  if  through  means  of  these 
he  could  acquire  his  Hberty,  he  might,  when  possessed 
of  freedom,  turn  it  to  the  benefit  of  those  for  whom  he 
was  more  interested  than  for  his  own  welfare.  'I  have 
behaved  like  a  fool,'  he  said;  *I  ought  to  have  tempor- 
ised with  this  singular  being,  learned  the  motives  of  its 
interference,  and  availed  myself  of  its  succour,  provided 
I  could  do  so  without  any  dishonourable  conditions.  It 
would  have  been  always  time  enough  to  reject  such 
when  they  should  have  been  proposed  to  me.' 

So  saving,  he  was  forming  projects  for  regulating 
his  intercourse  with  the  stranger  more  prudently,  in 
case  their  communication  should  be  renewed,  when  his 
meditations  were  interrupted  by  the  peremptory  sum- 
mons of  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson,  that  he  would,  in  his 
turn,  be  pleased  to  perform  those  domestic  duties  of 
their  common  habitation  which  the  dwarf  had  yester- 
day taken  upon  himself. 

There  was  no  resisting  a  request  so  reasonable,  and 
Peveril  accordingly  rose  and  betook  himself  to  the  ar- 
rangement of  their  prison;  while  Sir  Hudson,  perched 
upon  a  stool  from  which  his  legs  did  not  by  half  way 
reach  the  groimd,  sat  in  a  posture  of  elegant  languor, 
twangling  upon  an  old  broken- winded  guitar,  and  sing- 
ing songs  in  Spanish,  Moorish,  and  Lingua  Franca,  most 
detestably  out  of  tune.  He  failed  not,  at  the  conclusion 
of  each  ditty,  to  favour  JuUan  with  some  account  of 
what  he  had  sung,  either  in  the  way  of  translation  or 
historical  anecdote,  or  as  the  lay  was  connected  with 
some  pecuhar  part  of  his  own  eventful  history,  in  the 

236 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

course  of  which  the  poor  little  man  had  chanced  to  have 
been  taken  by  a  Sallee  rover  and  carried  captive  into 
Morocco. 

This  part  of  his  life  Hudson  used  to  make  the  era  of 
many  strange  adventures;  and,  if  he  could  himself  be 
believed,  he  had  made  wild  work  among  the  affections 
of  the  emperor's  seraglio.  But,  although  few  were  in 
a  situation  to  cross-examine  him  on  gallantries  and  in- 
trigues of  which  the  scene  was  so  remote,  the  officers 
of  the  garrison  of  Tangier  had  a  report  current  amongst 
them,  that  the  only  use  to  which  the  tyrannical  Moors 
could  convert  a  slave  of  such  slender  corporeal  strength 
was  to  employ  him  to  He  a-bed  all  day  and  hatch  tur- 
key's eggs.  The  least  allusion  to  this  rumour  used  to 
drive  him  wellnigh  frantic,  and  the  fatal  termination  of 
the  duel  with  young  Crofts,  which  began  in  wanton 
mirth  and  ended  in  bloodshed,  made  men  more  coy  than 
they  had  formerly  been  of  making  the  fiery  Uttle  hero 
the  subject  of  their  raillery. 

While  Peveril  did  the  drudgery  of  the  apartment,  the 
dwarf  remained  much  at  his  ease,  carolling  in  the  manner 
we  have  described;  but  when  he  beheld  Julian  attempt- 
ing the  task  of  the  cook.  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson  sprung 
from  the  stool  on  which  he  sat  en  signor,  at  the  risk  of 
breaking  both  his  guitar  and  his  neck,  exclaiming,  'That 
he  would  rather  prepare  breakfast  every  morning  be- 
twixt this  and  the  day  of  judgment  than  commit  a  task 
of  such  consequence  to  an  inexperienced  bungler  like 
his  companion.' 

The  young  man  gladly  resigned  his  task  to  the  splen- 
etic little  knight,  and  only  smiled  at  his  resentment  when 
he  added  that,  to  be  but  a  mortal  of  middle  stature, 

237 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Julian  was  as  stupid  as  a  giant.  Leaving  the  dwarf  tc 
prepare  the  meal  after  his  own  pleasure,  Peveril  em- 
ployed himself  in  measuring  the  room  with  his  eyes  on 
every  side,  and  in  endeavouring  to  discover  some  pri- 
vate entrance,  such  as  might  admit  his  midnight  visitant, 
and  perhaps  could  be  employed  in  case  of  need  for  effect- 
ing his  own  escape.  The  floor  next  engaged  a  scrutiny 
equally  minute,  but  more  successful. 

Close  by  his  own  pallet,  and  dropped  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  he  must  have  seen  it  sooner  but  for  the  hurry 
with  which  he  obeyed  the  summons  of  the  impatient 
dwarf,  lay  a  slip  of  paper,  sealed,  and  directed  with  the 
initial  letters,  *J.  P.,'  which  seemed  to  ascertain  that 
it  was  addressed  to  himself.  He  took  the  opportunity 
of  opening  it  while  the  soup  was  in  the  very  moment 
of  projection,  and  the  full  attention  of  his  companion 
was  occupied  by  what  he,  in  common  with  wiser  and 
taller  men,  considered  as  one  of  the  principal  occupa- 
tions of  life;  so  that,  without  incurring  his  observation 
or  awaking  his  curiosity,  Julian  had  the  opportunity  to 
read  as  follows :  — 

'Rash  and  infatuated  as  you  are,  there  is  one  who 
would  forfeit  much  to  stand  betwixt  you  and  your  fate. 
You  are  to-morrow  to  be  removed  to  the  Tower,  where 
your  life  cannot  be  assured  for  a  single  day;  for,  during 
the  few  hours  you  have  been  in  London,  you  have  pro- 
voked a  resentment  which  is  not  easily  slaked.  There 
is  but  one  chance  for  you:  renounce  A.  B.,  think  no 
more  of  her.  If  that  be  impossible,  think  of  her  but  as 
one  whom  you  can  never  see  again.  If  your  heart  can 
resolve  to  give  up  an  attachment  which  it  should  never 

238 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

have  entertained,  and  which  it  would  be  madness  to 
cherish  longer,  make  your  acquiescence  in  this  condi- 
tion known  by  putting  on  your  hat  a  white  band,  or  white 
feather,  or  knot  of  ribbon  of  the  same  colour,  whichever 
you  may  most  easily  come  by.  A  boat  will,  in  that  case, 
run,  as  if  by  accident,  on  board  of  that  which  is  to  con- 
vey you  to  the  Tower.  Do  you  in  the  confusion  jump 
overboard,  and  swim  to  the  Southwark  side  of  the 
Thames.  Friends  will  attend  there  to  secure  your  es- 
cape, and  you  will  find  yourself  with  one  who  will  rather 
lose  character  and  life  than  that  a  hair  of  your  head 
should  fall  to  the  ground,  but  who,  if  you  reject  the 
warning,  can  only  think  of  you  as  of  the  fool  who  perishes 
in  his  folly.  May  Heaven  guide  you  to  a  sound  judgment 
of  your  condition!  So  prays  one  who  would  be  your 
friend,  if  you  pleased,  Unknown.' 

The  Tower !  it  was  a  word  of  terror,  even  more  so  than 
a  civil  prison;  for  how  many  passages  to  death  did  that 
dark  structure  present !  The  severe  executions  which  it 
had  witnessed  in  preceding  reigns  were  not  perhaps 
more  numerous  than  the  secret  murders  which  had 
taken  place  within  its  walls;  yet  Peveril  did  not  a  mo- 
ment hesitate  on  the  part  which  he  had  to  perform.  'I 
will  share  my  father's  fate,'  he  said;  *I  thought  but  of 
him  when  they  brought  me  hither;  I  will  think  of  no- 
thing else  when  they  convey  me  to  yonder  still  more 
dreadful  place  of  confinement;  it  is  his,  and  it  is  but  meet 
that  it  should  be  his  son's.  And  thou,  Alice  Bridge- 
north,  the  day  that  I  renounce  thee,  may  I  be  held  alike 
a  traitor  and  a  dastard!  Go,  false  adviser,  and  share  the 
fate  of  seducers  and  heretical  teachers!' 

239 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

He  could  not  help  uttering  this  last  expression  aloud, 
as  he  threw  the  billet  into  the  fire,  with  a  vehemence 
which  made  the  dwarf  start  with  surprise.  'What  say 
you  of  burning  heretics,  young  man?'  he  exclaimed;  'by 
my  faith,  your  zeal  must  be  warmer  than  mine,  if  you 
talk  on  such  a  subject  when  the  heretics  are  the  pre- 
vailing number.  May  I  measure  six  feet  without  my 
shoes,  but  the  heretics  would  have  the  best  of  it  if  we 
came  to  that  work.   Beware  of  such  words.' 

'Too  late  to  beware  of  words  spoken  and  heard,'  said 
the  turnkey,  who,  opening  the  door  with  unusual  pre- 
cautions to  avoid  noise,  had  stolen  imperceived  into  the 
room;  'however,  Master  Peveril  has  behaved  like  a 
gentleman,  and  I  am  no  tale-bearer,  on  condition  he  will 
consider  I  have  had  trouble  in  his  matters.' 

Julian  had  no  alternative  but  to  take  the  fellow's 
hint  and  administer  a  bribe,  with  which  Master  Clink 
was  so  well  satisfied  that  he  exclaimed,  '  It  went  to  his 
heart  to  take  leave  of  such  a  kind-natured  gentleman, 
and  that  he  could  have  turned  the  key  on  him  for  twenty 
years  with  pleasure.  But  the  best  of  friends  must  part.' 

'I  am  to  be  removed,  then?'  said  Julian. 

'Ay,  truly,  master,  the  warrant  is  come  from  the 
council.' 

'  To  convey  me  to  the  Tower? ' 

'Whew!'  exclaimed  the  officer  of  the  law,  'who  the 
devil  told  you  that?  But  since  you  do  know  it,  there  is 
no  harm  to  say  "Ay."  So  make  yourself  ready  to  move 
immediately ;  and  first,  hold  out  your  dew-beaters  till  I 
take  off  the  darbies.' 

'Is  that  usual?'  said  Peveril,  stretching  out  his  feet 
as  the  fellow  directed,  while  his  fetters  were  unlocked. 

240 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Why,  ay,  master,  these  fetters  belong  to  the  keeper; 
they  are  not  a-going  to  send  them  to  the  lieutenant,  I 
trow.  No  —  no,  the  warders  must  bring  their  own  gear 
with  them;  they  get  none  here,  I  promise  them.  Never- 
theless, if  your  honour  hath  a  fancy  to  go  in  fetters,  as 
thinking  it  may  move  compassion  of  your  case  — ' 

*  I  have  no  intention  to  make  my  case  seem  worse  than 
it  is,'  said  Julian,  whilst  at  the  same  time  it  crossed  his 
mind  that  his  anonymous  correspondent  must  be  well 
acquainted  both  with  his  own  personal  habits,  since  the 
letter  proposed  a  plan  of  escape  which  could  only  be 
executed  by  a  bold  swimmer,  and  with  the  fashions  of 
the  prison,  since  it  was  foreseen  that  he  would  not  be 
ironed  on  his  passage  to  the  Tower.  The  turnkey's  next 
speech  made  him  carry  conjecture  still  further. 

*  There  is  nothing  in  life  I  would  not  do  for  so  brave 
a  guest,'  said  Clink;  'I  could  nab  one  of  my  wife's  rib- 
bons for  you,  if  your  honour  had  the  fancy  to  mount  the 
white  flag  in  your  beaver.' 

'To  what  good  purpose?'  said  Julian,  shortly,  con- 
necting, as  was  natural,  the  man's  proposed  civility  with 
the  advice  given  and  the  signal  prescribed  in  the  letter. 

'Nay,  to  no  good  purpose  I  know  of,'  said  the  turn- 
key; 'only  it  is  the  fashion  to  seem  white  and  harmless 
—  a  sort  of  token  of  not-guiltiness,  as  I  may  say,  which 
folks  desire  to  show  the  world  whether  they  be  truly 
guilty  or  not;  but  I  cannot  say  that  guiltiness  or  not- 
guiltiness  argufies  much,  saving  they  be  words  in  the 
vardict.' 

'Strange,'  thought  Peveril,  although  the  man  seemed 
to  speak  quite  naturally,  and  without  any  double  mean- 
ing — '  strange  that  all  should  apparently  combine  to 

28  241 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

realise  the  plan  of  escape,  could  I  but  give  my  consent  to 
it !  And  had  I  not  better  consent?  Whoever  does  so  much 
for  me  must  wish  me  well,  and  a  well-wisher  would  never 
enforce  the  unjust  conditions  on  which  I  am  required 
to  consent  to  my  liberation.' 

But  this  misgi\dng  of  his  resolution  was  but  for  a  mo- 
ment. He  speedily  recollected  that  whoever  aided  him 
in  escaping  must  be  necessarily  exposed  to  great  risk, 
and  had  a  right  to  name  the  stipulation  on  which  he  was 
willing  to  incur  it.  He  also  recollected  that  falsehood 
is  equally  base,  whether  expressed  in  words  or  in  dumb 
show;  and  that  he  should  He  as  flatly  by  using  the  signal 
agreed  upon  in  evidence  of  his  renouncing  Alice  Bridge- 
north  as  he  would  in  direct  terms  if  he  made  such  renun- 
ciation vvithout  the  purpose  of  abiding  by  it. 

'If  you  would  oblige  me.'  he  said  to  the  turnkey,  'let 
me  have  a  piece  of  black  silk  or  crape  for  the  purpose 
you  mention.' 

'Of  crape,'  said  the  fellow;  'what  should  that  signify? 
WTiy  the  bien  morts,  who  bing  out  to  tour  at  you,^  will 
think  you  a  chimney-sweeper  on  Alay-day.' 

'It  will  show  my  settled  sorrow.'  said  Julian,  'as  well 
as  my  determined  resolution.' 

'As  you  -^111.  sir,'  answered  the  fellow.  'I'll  pro\ide 
you  with  a  black  rag  of  some  kind  or  other.  So,  now,  let 
us  be  mo\'ing.' 

Julian  intimated  his  readiness  to  attend  him,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  bid  farewell  to  his  late  companion,  the  stout 
Geoffrey  Hudson.  The  parting  was  not  without  emotion 
on  both  sides,  more  particularly  on  that  of  the  poor  Httle 
man.  who  had  taken  a  particular  liking  to  the  companion 

^  The  smart  girls,  who  turn  out  to  look  at  you. 
242 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

of  whom  he  was  now  about  to  be  deprived.  'Fare  ye 
well,'  he  said,  'my  young  friend,'  taking  Julian's  hand 
in  both  his  own  uplifted  palms,  in  which  action  he  some- 
what resembled  the  attitude  of  a  sailor  pulling  a  rope 
overhead.  '  Many  in  my  situation  would  think  himself 
wronged,  as  a  soldier  and  servant  of  the  King's  chamber, 
in  seeing  you  removed  to  a  more  honourable  prison  than 
that  which  I  am  limited  unto.  But,  I  thank  God,  I  grudge 
you  not  the  Tower,  nor  the  rocks  of  Scilly,  nor  even 
Carisbrooke  Castle,  though  the  latter  was  graced  with 
the  captivity  of  my  blessed  and  martyred  master.  Go 
where  you  will,  I  wish  you  all  the  distinction  of  an  hon- 
ourable prison-house,  and  a  safe  and  speedy  deliverance 
in  God's  own  time.  For  myself ,  my  race  is  near  a  close, 
and  that  because  I  fall  a  martyr  to  the  over-tenderness 
of  my  own  heart.  There  is  a  circumstance,  good  Master 
Julian  Peveril,  which  should  have  been  yours,  had  Provi- 
dence permitted  our  further  intimacy,  but  it  fits  not  the 
present  hour.  Go  then,  my  friend,  and  bear  witness  in 
life  and  death  that  Geoffrey  Hudson  scorns  the  insults 
and  persecutions  of  fortune,  as  he  would  despise,  and  has 
often  despised,  the  mischievous  pranks  of  an  overgrown 
schoolboy.' 

So  saying,  he  turned  away  and  hid  his  face  with  his 
little  handkerchief,  while  Julian  felt  towards  him  that 
tragi-comic  sensation  which  makes  us  pity  the  object, 
which  excites  it  not  the  less  that  we  are  somewhat  in- 
clined to  laugh  amid  our  sympathy.  The  jailor  made 
him  a  signal,  which  Peveril  obeyed,  leaving  the  dwarf 
to  disconsolate  solitude. 

As  JuHan  followed  the  keeper  through  the  various 
windings  of  this  penal  labyrinth,  the  man  observed  that 

243 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

*He  was  a  rum  fellow,  that  little  Sir  Geoffrey,  and,  for 
gallantry,  a  perfect  cock  of  Bantam,  for  as  old  as  he  was. 
There  was  a  certain  gay  wench,'  he  said,  'that  had 
hooked  him;  but  what  she  could  make  of  him,  save  she 
carried  him  to  Smithfield  and  took  money  for  him,  as  for 
a  motion  of  puppets,  it  was,'  he  said,  'hard  to  gather.' 

Encouraged  by  this  opening,  Julian  asked  if  his  attend- 
ant knew  why  his  prison  was  changed.  *To  teach  you 
to  become  a  king's  post  without  commission,'  answered 
the  fellow. 

He  stopped  in  his  tattle  as  they  approached  that  for- 
midable central  point,  in  which  lay  couched  on  his  leath- 
ern elbow-chair  the  fat  commander  of  the  fortress, 
stationed  apparently  for  ever  in  the  midst  of  his  citadel, 
as  the  huge  boa  is  sometimes  said  to  lie  stretched  as  a 
guard  upon  the  subterranean  treasures  of  Eastern  rajahs. 
This  overgrown  man  of  authority  eyed  Julian  wistfully 
and  sullenly,  as  the  miser  the  guinea  which  he  must  part 
with,  or  the  hungry  mastiff  the  food  which  is  carried  to 
another  kennel.  He  growled  to  himself  as  he  turned  the 
leaves  of  his  ominous  register,  in  order  to  make  the 
necessary  entry  respecting  the  removal  of  his  prisoner. 
'To  the  Tower  —  to  the  Tower;  ay,  ay,  all  must  to  the 
Tower  —  that's  the  fashion  of  it;  free  Britons  to  a  mil- 
itary prison,  as  if  we  had  neither  bolts  nor  chains  here! 
I  hope  Parliament  will  have  it  up,  this  Towering  work, 
that's  all.  Well,  the  youngster  will  take  no  good  by  the 
change,  and  that  is  one  comfort.' 

Having  finished  at  once  his  official  act  of  registration 
and  his  soHloquy,  he  made  a  signal  to  his  assistants  to 
remove  JuKan,  who  was  led  along  the  same  stern  pass- 
ages which  he  had  traversed  upon  his  entrance,  to  the 

244 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

gate  of  the  prison,  whence  a  coach,  escorted  by  two 
officers  of  justice,  conveyed  him  to  the  water-side. 

A  boat  here  waited  him,  with  four  warders  of  the 
Tower,  to  whose  custody  he  was  formally  resigned  by 
his  late  attendants.  CHnk,  however,  the  turnkey,  with 
whom  he  was  more  especially  acquainted,  did  not  take 
leave  of  him  without  furnishing  him  with  the  piece  of 
black  crape  which  he  requested.  Peveril  fixed  it  on  his 
hat  amid  the  whispers  of  his  new  guardians.  '  The  gentle- 
man is  in  a  hurry  to  go  into  mourning,'  said  one;  'may- 
hap he  had  better  wait  till  he  has  cause.' 

'Perhaps  others  may  wear  mourning  for  him  ere  he 
can  mourn  for  any  one,'  answered  another  of  these  func- 
tionaries. Yet,  notwithstanding  the  tenor  of  these  whis- 
pers, their  behaviour  to  their  prisoner  was  more  respect- 
ful than  he  had  experienced  from  his  former  keepers, 
and  might  be  termed  a  sullen  civility.  The  ordinary 
officers  of  the  law  were  in  general  rude,  as  having  to  do 
with  felons  of  every  description ;  whereas  these  men  were 
only  employed  with  persons  accused  of  state  crimes  — 
men  who  were  from  birth  and  circumstances  usually 
entitled  to  expect,  and  able  to  reward,  decent  usage. 

The  change  of  keepers  passed  unnoticed  by  Julian,  as 
did  the  gay  and  busy  scene  presented  by  the  broad  and 
beautiful  river  on  which  he  was  now  launched.  A  hun- 
dred boats  shot  past  them,  bearing  parties  intent  on 
business  or  on  pleasure.  Julian  only  viewed  them  with 
the  stern  hope  that  whoever  had  endeavoured  to  bribe 
him  from  his  fidelity  by  the  hope  of  freedom  might  see, 
from  the  colour  of  the  badge  which  he  had  assumed, 
how  determined  he  was  to  resist  the  temptation  pre- 
sented to  him. 

24S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

It  was  about  high  water,  and  a  stout  wherry  came  up 
the  river,  with  sail  and  oar,  so  directly  upon  that  in 
which  Julian  was  embarked  that  it  seemed  as  if  likely 
to  run  her  aboard.  *  Get  your  carabines  ready,'  cried  the 
principal  warder  to  his  assistants.  'What  the  devil  can 
these  scoundrels  mean? ' 

But  the  crew  in  the  other  boat  seemed  to  have 
perceived  their  error,  for  they  suddenly  altered  their 
course  and  struck  off  into  the  middle  stream,  while 
a  torrent  of  mutual  abuse  was  exchanged  betwixt  them 
and  the  boat  whose  course  they  had  threatened  to 
impede. 

'  The  Unknown  has  kept  his  faith,'  said  Julian  to  him- 
self;  'I  too  have  kept  mine.' 

It  even  seemed  to  him,  as  the  boats  neared  each  other, 
that  he  heard  from  the  other  wherry  something  like  a 
stifled  scream  or  groan ;  and  when  the  momentary  bus- 
tle was  over  he  asked  the  warder  who  sat  next  him 
what  boat  that  was. 

*Men-of-war's-men  on  a  frolic,  I  suppose,'  answered 
the  warder.  *I  know  no  one  else  would  be  so  impudent 
as  run  foul  of  the  King's  boat;  for  I  am  sure  the  fellow 
put  the  helm  up  on  purpose.  But  mayhap  you,  sir, 
know  more  of  the  matter  than  I  do.' 

This  insinuation  effectually  prevented  Julian  from 
putting  further  questions,  and  he  remained  silent  until 
the  boat  came  under  the  dusty  bastions  of  the  Tower. 
The  tide  carried  them  up  under  a  dark  and  lowering  arch, 
closed  at  the  upper  end  by  the  well-known  Traitor's 
Gate,^  formed  like  a  wicket  of  huge  intersecting  bars  of 
wood,  through  which  might  be  seen  a  dim  and  imperfect 
*  See  Note  8  in  Fortunes  of  Nigel,  vol.  ii,  p.  3SO. 
246 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

view  of  soldiers  and  warders  upon  duty,  and  of  the  steep 
ascending  causeway  which  leads  up  from  the  river  into 
the  interior  of  the  fortress.  By  this  gate  —  and  it  is  the 
well-known  circumstance  which  assigned  its  name  — 
those  accused  of  state  crimes  were  usually  committed 
to  the  Tower.  The  Thames  afforded  a  secret  and  silent 
mode  of  conveyance  for  transporting  thither  such  whose 
fallen  fortunes  might  move  the  commiseration,  or  whose 
popular  qualities  might  excite  the  sympathy,  of  the  pub- 
lic ;  and  even  where  no  cause  for  especial  secrecy  existed, 
the  peace  of  the  city  was  undisturbed  by  the  tumult 
attending  the  passage  of  the  prisoner  and  his  guards 
through  the  most  frequented  streets. 

Yet  this  custom,  however  recommended  by  state 
policy,  must  have  often  struck  chill  upon  the  heart  of 
the  criminal,  who  thus,  stolen,  as  it  were,  out  of  society, 
reached  the  place  of  his  confinement  without  encounter- 
ing even  one  glance  of  compassion  on  the  road;  and  as, 
from  under  the  dusky  arch,  he  landed  on  those  flinty 
steps,  worn  by  many  a  footstep  anxious  as  his  own, 
againstwhich  the  tide  lapped  fitfully  with  small  success- 
ive waves,  and  thence  looked  forward  to  the  steep  as- 
cent into  a  Gothic  state-prison,  and  backward  to  such 
part  of  the  river  as  the  low-browed  vault  suffered  to  be- 
come visible,  he  must  often  have  felt  that  he  was  leaving 
daylight,  hope,  and  Hfe  itself  behind  him. 

While  the  warder's  challenge  was  made  and  answered, 
Peveril  endeavoured  to  obtain  information  from  his  con- 
ductors where  he  was  likely  to  be  confined ;  but  the  an- 
swer was  brief  and  general  —  '  Where  the  lieutenant 
should  direct.' 

'  Could  he  not  be  permitted  to  share  the  imprisonment 
247 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  his  father,  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril?'  He  forgot  not,  on 
this  occasion,  to  add  the  surname  of  his  house. 

The  warder,  an  old  man  of  respectable  appearance, 
stared,  as  if  at  the  extravagance  of  the  demand,  and 
said  bluntly,  *  It  is  impossible.' 

'At  least,'  said  Peveril,  'show  me  where  my  father  is 
confined,  that  I  may  look  upon  the  walls  which  separate 
us.' 

'Young  gentleman,'  said  the  senior  warder,  shaking 
his  grey  head,  'I  am  sorry  for  you;  but  asking  questions 
will  do  you  no  service.  In  this  place  we  know  nothing  of 
fathers  and  sons.' 

Yet  chance  seemed,  in  a  few  moments  afterwards,  to 
offer  Peveril  that  satisfaction  which  the  rigour  of  his 
keepers  was  disposed  to  deny  to  him.  As  he  was  con- 
veyed up  the  steep  passage  which  leads  under  what  is 
called  the  Wakefield  Tower,  a  female  voice,  in  a  tone 
wherein  grief  and  joy  were  indescribably  mixed,  ex- 
claimed, 'My  son!  —  my  dear  son!' 

Even  those  who  guarded  Julian  seemed  softened  by  a 
tone  of  such  acute  feeling.  They  slackened  their  pace. 
They  almost  paused  to  permit  him  to  look  up  towards 
the  casement  from  which  the  sounds  of  maternal  agony 
proceeded;  but  the  aperture  was  so  narrow,  and  so  closely 
grated,  that  nothing  was  visible  save  a  white  female 
hand,  which  grasped  one  of  those  rusty  barricadoes,  as  if 
for  supporting  the  person  within,  while  another  streamed 
a  white  handkerchief,  and  then  let  it  fall.  The  casement 
was  instantly  deserted. 

'Give  it  me,'  said  Julian  to  the  officer  who  lifted  the 
handkerchief;  'it  is  perhaps  a  mother's  last  gift.' 

The  old  warder  lifted  the  napkin,  and  looked  at  it 

248 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

with  the  jealous  minuteness  of  one  who  is  accustomed  to 
detect  secret  correspondence  in  the  most  trifling  acts  of 
intercourse. 

'There  may  be  writing  on  it  with  invisible  ink/  said 
one  of  his  comrades. 

'  It  is  wetted,  but  I  think  it  is  only  with  tears,'  answered 
the  senior.  *  I  cannot  keep  it  from  the  poor  young  gentle- 
man.' 

*Ah,  Master  Coleby,'  said  his  comrade,  in  a  gentle 
tone  of  reproach,  'you  would  have  been  wearing  a  better 
coat  than  a  yeoman's  to-day  had  it  not  been  for  your 
tender  heart.' 

*It  signifies  little,'  said  old  Coleby,  'while  my  heart  is 
true  to  my  king,  what  I  feel  in  discharging  my  duty,  or 
what  coat  keeps  my  old  bosom  from  the  cold  weather.' 

Peveril,  meanwhile,  folded  in  his  breast  the  token  of 
his  mother's  affection  which  chance  had  favoured  him 
with ;  and  when  placed  in  the  small  and  solitary  chamber 
which  he  was  told  to  consider  as  his  own  during  his  resid- 
ence in  the  Tower,  he  was  soothed  even  to  weeping  by 
this  trifling  circumstance,  which  he  could  not  help  con- 
sidering as  an  omen  that  his  unfortunate  house  was  not 
entirely  deserted  by  Providence. 

But  the  thoughts  and  occurrences  of  a  prison  are  too 
uniform  for  a  narrative,  and  we  must  now  convey  our 
readers  into  a  more  bustling  scene. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

Henceforth  't  is  done  —  Fortune  and  I  are  friends; 
And  I  must  live,  for  Buckingham  commends. 

Pope. 

The  spacious  mansion  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  with 
the  demesne  belonging  to  it,  originally  bore  the  name  of 
York  House,  and  occupied  a  large  portion  of  the  ground 
adjacent  to  the  Savoy. 

This  had  been  laid  out  by  the  munificence  of  his  father, 
the  favourite  of  Charles  the  First,  in  a  most  splendid 
manner,  so  as  almost  to  rival  Whitehall  itself.  But  dur- 
ing the  increasing  rage  for  building  new  streets,  and  the 
creating  of  almost  an  additional  town,  in  order  to  con- 
nect London  and  Westminster,  this  ground  had  become 
of  very  great  value;  and  the  second  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, who  was  at  once  fond  of  scheming  and  needy  of 
money,  had  agreed  to  a  plan  laid  before  him  by  some 
adventurous  architect,  for  converting  the  extensive 
grounds  around  his  palace  into  those  streets,  lanes,  and 
courts  which  still  perpetuate  his  name  and  titles ;  though 
those  who  live  in  Buckingham  Street,  Duke  Street,  Vil- 
liers  Street,  or  in  Of  Alley  (for  even  that  connecting 
particle  is  locally  commemorated),  probably  think  sel- 
dom of  the  memory  of  the  witty,  eccentric,  and  licen- 
tious George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whose  titles 
are  preserved  in  the  names  of  their  residence  and  its 
neighbourhood. 

This  building  plan  the  duke  had  entered  upon  with 
250 


PEVEREL  OF  THE  PEAK 

all  the  eagerness  which  he  usually  attached  to  novelty. 
His  gardens  were  destroyed,  his  pavilions  levelled,  his 
splendid  stables  demolished,  the  whole  pomp  of  his  sub- 
urban demesne  laid  waste,  cumbered  with  ruins,  and 
intersected  with  the  foundations  of  new  buildings  and 
cellars,  and  the  process  of  levelling  different  lines  for  the 
intended  streets.  But  the  undertaking,  although  it  proved 
afterwards  both  lucrative  and  successful,  met  with  a 
check  at  the  outset,  partly  from  want  of  the  necessary 
funds,  partly  from  the  impatient  and  mercurial  temper 
of  the  duke,  which  soon  carried  him  off  in  pursuit  of 
some  more  new  object;  so  that,  though  much  was  demol- 
ished, very  little,  in  comparison,  was  reared  up  in  the 
stead,  and  nothing  was  completed.  The  principal  part 
of  the  ducal  mansion  still  remained  uninjured;  but  the 
demesne  in  which  it  stood  bore  a  strange  analogy  to  the 
irregular  mind  of  its  noble  owner.  Here  stood  a  beautiful 
group  of  exotic  trees  and  shrubs,  the  remnant  of  the  gar- 
den, amid  yawning  common  sewers  and  heaps  of  rubbish. 
In  one  place  an  old  tower  threatened  to  fall  upon  the 
spectator,  and  in  another  he  ran  the  risk  of  being  swal- 
lowed up  by  a  modern  vault.  Grandeur  of  conception 
could  be  discovered  in  the  undertaking,  but  was  almost 
everywhere  marred  by  poverty  or  negligence  of  execu- 
tion. In  short,  the  whole  place  was  the  true  emblem  of 
an  understanding  and  talents  run  to  waste,  and  become 
more  dangerous  than  advantageous  to  society,  by  the 
want  of  steady  principle  and  the  improvidence  of  the 
possessor. 

There  were  men  who  took  a  different  view  of  the  duke's 
purpose  in  permitting  his  mansion  to  be  thus  surrounded, 
and  his  demesne  occupied  by  modern  buildings  which 

251 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

were  incomplete,  and  ancient  which  were  but  half  de- 
molished. They  alleged  that,  engaged  as  he  was  in  so 
many  mysteries  of  love  and  of  politics,  and  having  the 
character  of  the  most  daring  and  dangerous  intriguer 
of  his  time,  his  Grace  found  it  convenient  to  surround 
himself  with  this  ruinous  arena,  into  which  officers  of 
justice  could  not  penetrate  without  some  difficulty  and 
hazard;  and  which  might  afford,  upon  occasion,  a  safe 
and  secret  shelter  for  such  tools  as  were  fit  for  desperate 
enterprises,  and  a  private  and  unobserved  mode  of  access 
to  those  whom  he  might  have  any  special  reason  for 
receiving  in  secret. 

Leaving  Peveril  in  the  Tower,  we  must  once  more 
convey  our  readers  to  the  levee  of  the  duke,  who,  on  the 
morning  of  Julian's  transference  to  that  fortress,  thus 
addressed  his  minister-in-chief  and  principal  attendant: 
—  *  I  have  been  so  pleased  with  your  conduct  in  this 
matter,  Jerningham,  that  if  Old  Nick  were  to  arise  in  our 
presence,  and  offer  me  his  best  imp  as  a  familiar  in  thy 
room,  I  would  hold  it  but  a  poor  compliment.' 

'A  legion  of  imps,'  said  Jerningham,  bowing,  'could 
not  have  been  more  busy  than  I  in  your  Grace's  service; 
but  if  your  Grace  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  your  whole 
plan  was  wellnigh  marred  by  your  not  returning  home 
till  last  night,  or  rather  this  morning.' 

'And  why,  I  pray  you,  sage  Master  Jerningham,'  said 
his  Grace,  'should  I  have  returned  home  an  instant 
sooner  than  my  pleasure  and  convenience  served?' 

'Nay,  my  lord  duke,'  replied  the  attendant,  'I  know 
not;  only,  when  you  sent  us  word  by  Empson,  in 
Chiffinch's  apartment,  to  command  us  to  make  sure 
of  the  girl  at  any  rate,  and  at  all  risks,  you  said  you 

252 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

would  be  here  as  soon  as  you  could  get  freed  of  the 
King.' 

'Freed  of  the  King,  you  rascal!  What  sort  of  phrase  is 
that? '  demanded  the  duke. 

'It  was  Empson  who  used  it,  my  lord,  as  coming  from 
your  Grace.' 

*  There  is  much,  very  fit  for  my  Grace  to  say,  that  mis- 
becomes such  mouths  as  Empson's  or  yours  to  repeat,' 
answered  the  duke,  haughtily,  but  instantly  resumed 
his  tone  of  familiarity,  for  his  humour  was  as  capricious 
as  his  pursuits.  'But  I  know  what  thou  wouldst  have; 
first,  your  wisdom  would  know  what  became  of  me  since 
thou  hadst  my  commands  at  Chiffinch's ;  and  next,  your 
valour  would  fain  sound  another  flourish  of  trumpets 
on  thine  own  most  artificial  retreat,  leaving  thy  comrade 
in  the  hands  of  the  Philistines.' 

'May  it  please  your  Grace,'  said  Jerningham,  'I  did 
but  retreat  for  the  preservation  of  the  baggage.' 

'What!  do  you  play  at  crambo  with  me?'  said  the 
duke.  '  I  would  have  you  know  that  the  common  parish 
fool  should  be  whipt  were  he  to  attempt  to  pass  pun  or 
quodlibet  as  a  genuine  jest,  even  amongst  ticket-porters 
and  hackney-chairmen.' 

'And  yet  I  have  heard  your  Grace  indulge  in  the  jeu 
de  mots,'  answered  the  attendant. 

'Sirrah  Jerningham,'  answered  the  patron,  'discard 
thy  memory,  or  keep  it  under  correction,  else  it  will  ham- 
per thy  rise  in  the  world.  Thou  mayst  perchance  have 
seen  me  also  have  a  fancy  to  play  at  trap-ball,  or  to  kiss 
a  serving-wench,  or  to  guzzle  ale  and  eat  toasted  cheese 
in  a  porterly  whimsy;  but  is  it  fitting  thou  shouldst 
remember  such  follies?  No  more  on  't.  Hark  you;  how 

253 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

came  the  long  lubberly  fool,  Jenkins,  being  a  master  of 
the  noble  science  of  defence,  to  suffer  himself  to  be  run 
through  the  body  so  simply  by  a  rustic  swain  Uke  this 
same  Peveril? ' 

'Please  your  Grace,  this  same  Corydon  is  no  such  nov- 
ice. I  saw  the  onset;  and,  except  in  one  hand,  I  never 
saw  a  sword  managed  with  such  hfe,  grace,  and  facility.' 

'Ay,  indeed?'  said  the  duke,  taking  his  own  sheathed 
rapier  in  his  hand, '  I  could  not  have  thought  that.  I  am 
somewhat  rusted,  and  have  need  of  breathing.  Peveril  is 
a  name  of  note.  As  well  go  to  Barns  Elms  or  behind 
Montagu  House  with  him  as  with  another.  His  father  a 
rumoured  plotter,  too.  The  public  would  have  noted  it 
in  me  as  becoming  a  zealous  Protestant.  Needful  I  do 
something  to  maintain  my  good  name  in  the  city,  to 
atone  for  non-attendance  on  prayer  and  preaching. 
But  your  Laertes  is  fast  in  the  Fleet;  and  I  suppose 
his  blundering  blockhead  of  an  antagonist  is  dead  or 
dying.' 

'Recovering,  my  lord,  on  the  contrary,'  replied  Jer- 
ningham;  'the  blade  fortunately  avoided  his  vitals.' 

'D — n  his  vitals!'  answered  the  duke.  'TeU  him  to 
postpone  his  recovery,  or  I  will  put  him  to  death  in 
earnest.' 

'I  will  caution  his  surgeon,'  said  Jerningham,  'which 
will  answer  equally  well.' 

'  Do  so ;  and  tell  him  he  had  better  be  on  his  own  death- 
bed as  cure  his  patient  till  I  send  him  notice.  That  young 
fellow  must  be  let  loose  again  at  no  rate.' 

'There  is  little  danger,'  said  the  attendant.  *I  hear 
some  of  the  witnesses  have  got  their  net  flung  over  him 
on  account  of  some  matters  down  in  the  north;  and  that 

254 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

he  is  to  be  translated  to  the  Tower  for  that,  and  for  some 
letters  of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  as  rumour  goes.' 

'To  the  Tower  let  him  go,  and  get  out  as  he  can,'  re- 
plied the  duke;  'and  when  you  hear  he  is  fast  there,  let 
the  fencing  fellow  recover  as  fast  as  the  surgeon  and  he 
can  mutually  settle  it.' 

The  duke,  having  said  this,  took  two  or  three  turns  in 
the  apartment,  and  appeared  to  be  in  deep  thought.  His 
attendant  waited  the  issue  of  his  meditations  with 
patience,  being  well  aware  that  such  moods,  during  which 
his  mind  was  strongly  directed  in  one  point,  were  never 
of  so  long  duration  with  his  patron  as  to  prove  a  severe 
burden  to  his  own  patience. 

Accordingly,  after  the  silence  of  seven  or  eight  min- 
utes, the  duke  broke  through  it,  taking  from  the  toilette 
a  large  silk  purse,  which  seemed  full  of  gold.  *  Jerning- 
ham,'  he  said,  'thou  art  a  faithful  fellow,  and  it  would 
be  sin  not  to  cherish  thee.  I  beat  the  King  at  mall  on 
his  bold  defiance.  The  honour  is  enough  for  me;  and 
thou,  my  boy,  shalt  have  the  winnings.' 

Jerningham  pocketed  the  purse  with  due  acknowledg- 
ments. 

'  Jerningham,'  his  Grace  continued, '  I  know  you  blame 
me  for  changing  my  plans  too  often;  and  on  my  soul  I 
have  heard  you  so  learned  on  the  subject  that  I  have 
become  of  your  opinion,  and  have  been  vexed  at  myself 
for  two  or  three  hours  together,  for  not  sticking  as 
constantly  to  one  object  as  doubtless  I  shall  when  age 
(touching  his  forehead)  shall  mak^  this  same  weathercock 
too  rusty  to  turn  with  the  changing  breeze.  But  as  yet, 
while  I  have  spirit  and  action,  let  it  whirl  Uke  the  vane 
at  the  mast-head,  which  teaches  the  pilot  how  to  steer 

255 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  course;  and  when  I  shift  mine,  think  I  am  bound  to 
follow  fortune,  and  not  to  control  her.' 

*I  can  understand  nothing  from  all  this,  please  your 
Grace,'  replied  Jerningham,  'save  that  you  have  been 
pleased  to  change  some  purposed  measures,  and  think 
that  you  have  profited  by  doing  so.' 

'You  shall  judge  yourself,'  replied  the  duke.  *I  have 
seen  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  You  start.  It  is  true, 
by  Heaven!  I  have  seen  her,  and  from  sworn  enemies 
we  have  become  sworn  friends.  The  treaty  between 
such  high  and  mighty  powers  had  some  weighty  articles; 
besides,  I  had  a  French  negotiator  to  deal  with ;  so  that 
you  will  allow  a  few  hours'  absence  was  but  a  necessary 
interval  to  make  up  our  matters  of  diplomacy.' 

'  Your  Grace  astonishes  me,'  said  Jerningham. '  Christ- 
ian's plan  of  supplanting  the  great  lady  is  then  entirely 
abandoned?  I  thought  you  had  but  desired  to  have  the 
fair  successor  here,  in  order  to  carry  it  on  under  your 
own  management.' 

*I  forget  what  I  meant  at  the  time,'  said  the  duke; 
*  unless  that  I  was  resolved  she  should  not  jilt  me  as  she 
did  the  good-natured  man  of  royalty;  and  so  I  am  still 
determined,  since  you  put  me  in  mind  of  the  fair  Dowsa- 
belle.  But  I  had  a  contrite  note  from  the  duchess  while 
we  were  at  the  Mall.  I  went  to  see  her,  and  found  her 
a  perfect  Niobe,  On  my  soul,  in  spite  of  red  eyes,  and 
swelled  features,  and  dishevelled  hair,  there  are,  after 
all,  Jerningham,  some  women  who  do,  as  the  poets  say, 
look  lovely  in  afiliction.  Out  came  the  cause;  and  with 
such  humility,  such  penitence,  such  throwing  herself  on 
my  mercy  —  she  the  proudest  devil,  too,  in  the  whole 
court  —  that  I  must  have  had  heart  of  steel  to  resist  it 

256 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

all.  In  short,  Chifi&nch  in  a  drunken  fit  had  played  the 
babbler,  and  let  young  Saville  into  our  intrigue.  Saville 
plays  the  rogue,  and  informs  the  duchess  by  a  messen- 
ger, who  luckily  came  a  little  late  into  the  market.  She 
learned,  too,  being  a  very  devil  for  intelligence,  that 
there  had  been  some  jarring  between  the  master  and 
me  about  this  new  Phillis;  and  that  I  was  most  Hkely  to 
catch  the  bird  —  as  any  one  may  see  who  looks  on  us 
both.  It  must  have  been  Empson  who  fluted  all  this 
into  her  Grace's  ear;  and  thinking  she  saw  how  her  lady- 
ship and  I  could  hunt  in  couples,  she  entreats  me  to 
break  Christian's  scheme,  and  keep  the  wench  out  of  the 
King's  sight,  especially  if  she  were  such  a  rare  piece  of 
perfection  as  fame  has  reported  her.' 

*And  your  Grace  has  promised  her  your  hand  to 
uphold  the  influence  which  you  have  so  often  threatened 
to  ruin? '  said  Jerningham. 

'Ay,  Jerningham;  my  turn  was  as  much  served  when 
she  seemed  to  own  herself  in  my  power  and  cry  me  mercy. 
And  observe,  it  is  all  one  to  me  by  which  ladder  I  climb 
into  the  King's  cabinet.  That  of  Portsmouth  is  ready 
fixed  —  better  ascend  by  it  than  fling  it  down  to  put  up 
another;  I  hate  all  unnecessary  trouble.' 

'And  Christian?'  said  Jerningham. 

'May  go  to  the  devil  for  a  self-conceited  ass.  One 
pleasure  of  this  twist  of  intrigue  is,  to  revenge  me  of 
that  villain,  who  thought  himself  so  essential  that,  by 
Heaven!  he  forced  himself  on  my  privacy  and  lectured 
me  like  a  schoolboy.  Hang  the  cold-blooded  hypocrit- 
ical vermin.  If  he  mutters,  I  will  have  his  nose  slit  as 
wide  as  Coventry's.^  Hark  ye,  is  the  colonel  come? ' 

1  See  Note  ii. 
«8  257 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  expect  him  every  moment,  your  Grace.' 

'Send  him  up  when  he  arrives,'  said  the  duke.  'Why 
do  you  stand  looking  at  me?  What  would  you  have? ' 

'Your  Grace's  direction  respecting  the  young  lady,' 
said  Jerningham. 

'Odd  zooks,'  said  the  duke,  'I  had  totally  forgotten 
her.  Is  she  very  tearful?  Exceedingly  afHicted?' 

'  She  does  not  take  on  so  violently  as  I  have  seen  some 
do,'  said  Jerningham;  'but,  for  a  strong,  firm,  concen- 
trated indignation,  I  have  seen  none  to  match  her.' 

'Well,  we  will  permit  her  to  cool.  I  will  not  face  the 
affliction  of  a  second  fair  one  immediately.  I  am  tired  of 
snivelling,  and  swelled  eyes,  and  blubbered  cheeks  for 
some  time;  and,  moreover,  must  husband  my  powers  of 
consolation.  Begone,  and  send  the  colonel.' 

'Will  your  Grace  permit  me  one  other  question?'  de- 
manded his  confidant. 

'Ask  what  thou  wilt,  Jerningham,  and  then  begone.' 

'Your  Grace  has  determined  to  give  up  Christian/ 
said  the  attendant.  'May  I  ask  what  becomes  of  the 
kingdom  of  Man? ' 

'  Forgotten,  as  I  have  a  Christian  soul!'  said  the  duke 
• —  '  as  much  forgotten  as  if  I  had  never  nourished  that 
scheme  of  royal  ambition.  D — n  it,  we  must  knit  up 
the  ravelled  skean  of  that  intrigue.  Yet  it  is  but  a  mis- 
erable rock,  not  worth  the  trouble  I  have  been  bestowing 
on  it;  and  for  a  kingdom  —  it  has  a  sound  indeed;  but, 
in  reality,  I  might  as  well  stick  a  cock-chicken's  feather 
into  my  hat  and  call  it  a  plume.  Besides,  now  I  think 
upon  it,  it  would  scarce  be  honourable  to  sweep  that 
petty  royalty  out  of  Derby's  possession.  I  won  a  thou- 
sand pieces  of  the  young  earl  when  he  was  last  here,  and 

258 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

suffered  him  to  hang  about  me  at  court.  I  question  if 
the  whole  revenue  of  his  kingdom  is  worth  twice  as  much. 
Easily  I  could  win  it  of  him,  were  he  here,  with  less 
trouble  than  it  would  cost  me  to  carry  on  these  trouble- 
some intrigues  of  Christian's,' 

'If  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  so,  please  your  Grace,' 
answered  Jerningham,  'although  your  Grace  is  perhaps 
somewhat  liable  to  change  your  mind,  no  man  in  Eng- 
land can  afford  better  reasons  for  doing  so.' 

'I  think  so  myself,  Jerningham,'  said  the  duke;  'and 
it  may  be  it  is  one  reason  for  my  changing.  One  Kkes 
to  vindicate  his  own  conduct,  and  to  find  out  fme  rea- 
sons for  doing  what  one  has  a  mind  to.  And  now,  once 
again,  begone.  Or,  hark  ye  —  hark  ye,  I  shall  need  some 
loose  gold.  You  may  leave  the  purse  I  gave  you;  and  I 
will  give  you  an  order  for  as  much,  and  two  years'  inter- 
est, on  old  Jacob  Doublefee.' 

'As  your  Grace  pleases,'  said  Jerningham,  his  whole 
stock  of  complaisance  scarcely  able  to  conceal  his  mor- 
tification at  exchanging  for  a  distant  order,  of  a  kind 
which  of  late  had  not  been  very  regularly  honoured,  the 
sunny  contents  of  the  purse  which  had  actually  been  in 
his  pocket.  Secretly  but  solemnly  did  he  make  a  vow 
that  two  years'  interest  alone  should  not  be  the  com- 
pensation for  this  involuntary  exchange  in  the  form  of 
his  remuneration. 

As  the  discontented  dependant  left  the  apartment, 
he  met,  at  the  head  of  the  grand  staircase.  Christian 
himself,  who,  exercising  the  freedom  of  an  ancient  friend 
of  the  house,  was  making  his  way,  unannounced,  to  the 
duke's  dressing-apartment.  Jerningham,  conjecturing 
that  his  visit  at  this  crisis  would  be  anything  but  well- 

259 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

timed  or  well-taken,  endeavoured  to  avert  his  purpose 
by  asserting  that  the  duke  was  indisposed  and  in  his 
bedchamber;  and  this  he  said  so  loud  that  his  master 
might  hear  him,  and,  if  he  pleased,  realise  the  apology 
which  he  offered  in  his  name  by  retreating  into  the  bed- 
room as  his  last  sanctuary,  and  drawing  the  bolt  against 
intrusion. 

But,  far  from  adopting  a  stratagem  to  which  he  had 
had  recourse  on  former  occasions,  in  order  to  avoid  those 
who  came  upon  him,  though  at  an  appointed  hour,  and 
upon  business  of  importance,  Buckingham  called,  in  a 
loud  voice,  from  his  dressing-apartment,  commanding 
his  chamberlain  instantly  to  introduce  his  good  friend 
Master  Christian,  and  censuring  him  for  hesitating  for 
an  instant  to  do  so. 

'Now,'  thought  Jerningham  within  himself,  'if  Chris- 
tian knew  the  duke  as  well  as  I  do,  he  would  sooner  stand 
the  leap  of  a  lion,  Hke  the  London  'prentice  bold,  than 
venture  on  my  master  at  this  moment,  who  is  even  now 
in  a  humour  nearly  as  dangerous  as  the  animal.' 

He  then  ushered  Christian  into  his  master's  presence, 
taking  care  to  post  himself  within  ear-shot  of  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

'Speak  not  of  niceness,  when  there  's  chance  of  wreck,' 
The  captain  said,  as  ladies  writhed  their  neck 
To  see  the  dying  dolphin  flap  the  deck. 
'If  we  go  down,  on  us  these  gentry  sup  ; 
We  dine  upon  them,  if  we  haul  them  up. 
Wise  men  applaud  us  when  we  eat  the  eaters, 
As  the  devil  laughs  when  keen  folks  cheat  the  cheaters.' 

The  Sea  Voyage. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  duke's  manner  towards 
Christian  which  could  have  conveyed  to  that  latter  per- 
sonage, experienced  as  he  was  in  the  worst  possible  ways 
of  the  world,  that  Buckingham  would,  at  that  particular 
moment,  rather  have  seen  the  devil  than  himself;  unless 
it  was  that  Buckingham's  reception  of  him,  being  rather 
extraordinarily  courteous  towards  so  old  an  acquaint- 
ance, might  have  excited  some  degree  of  suspicion. 

Having  escaped  with  some  difl&culty  from  the  vague 
region  of  general  compliments,  which  bears  the  same 
relation  to  that  of  business  that  Milton  informs  us  the 
limbo  patrum  has  to  the  sensible  and  material  earth, 
Christian  asked  his  Grace  of  Buckingham,  with  the  same 
blunt  plainness  with  which  he  usually  veiled  a  very  deep 
and  artificial  character,  whether  he  had  lately  seen 
Chifiinch  or  his  helpmate. 

'Neither  of  them  lately,'  answered  Buckingham. 
'Have  not  you  waited  on  them  yourself?  I  thought  you 
would  have  been  more  anxious  about  the  great  scheme.' 

'I  have  called  once  and  again,'  said  Christian,  'but  I 
can  gain  no  access  to  the  sight  of  that  important  couple. 
I  begin  to  be  afraid  they  are  paltering  with  me.' 

261 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Which,  by  the  welkin  and  its  stars,  you  would  not  be 
slow  in  avenging,  Master  Christian.  I  know  your  Pur- 
itanical principles  on  that  point  well,'  said  the  duke. 
'Revenge  may  be  well  said  to  be  sweet,  when  so  many 
grave  and  wise  men  are  ready  to  exchange  for  it  all  the 
sugar-plums  which  pleasures  offer  to  the  poor  sinful 
people  of  the  world,  besides  the  reversion  of  those  which 
they  talk  of  expecting  in  the  way  of  post  obit  J 

*  You  may  jest,  my  lord,'  said  Christian, '  but  still  — ' 

'But  still  you  will  be  revenged  on  Chiffinch  and  his 
little  commodious  companion.  And  yet  the  task  may  be 
difficult:  Chiffinch  has  so  many  ways  of  obliging  his 
master;  his  little  woman  is  such  a  convenient,  pretty 
sort  of  a  screen,  and  has  such  winning  Httle  ways  of  her 
own,  that,  in  faith,  in  your  case,  I  would  not  meddle 
with  them.  What  is  this  refusing  their  door,  man?  We 
all  do  it  to  our  best  friends  now  and  then,  as  well  as  to 
duns  and  dull  company.' 

'  If  your  Grace  is  in  a  humour  of  rambling  thus  wildly 
in  your  talk,'  said  Christian,  'you  know  my  old  faculty 
of  patience:  I  can  wait  till  it  be  your  pleasure  to  talk 
more  seriously.' 

'Seriously!'  said  his  Grace.  'Wherefore  not?  I  only 
wait  to  know  what  your  serious  business  may  be.' 

'  In  a  word,  my  lord,  from  Chiffinch's  refusal  to  see  me, 
and  some  vain  calls  which  I  have  made  at  your  Grace's 
mansion,  I  am  afraid  either  that  our  plan  has  miscar- 
ried or  that  there  is  some  intention  to  exclude  me  from 
the  further  conduct  of  the  matter.'  Christian  pro- 
nounced these  words  with  considerable  emphasis. 

'That  were  folly,  as  well  as  treachery,'  returned  the 
duke,  *  to  exclude  from  the  spoil  the  very  engineer  who 

262 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

conducted  the  attack.  But  hark  ye,  Christian  —  I  am 
sorry  to  tell  bad  news  without  preparation;  but,  as  you 
insist  on  knowing  the  worst,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  sus- 
pect your  best  friends,  out  it  must  come.  Your  niece 
left  Chiffinch's  house  the  morning  before  yesterday.' 

Christian  staggered,  as  if  he  had  received  a  severe 
blow ;  and  the  blood  ran  to  his  face  in  such  a  current  of 
passion  that  the  duke  concluded  he  was  struck  with  an 
apoplexy.  But,  exerting  the  extraordinary  command 
which  he  could  maintain  under  the  most  trying  circum- 
stances, he  said,  with  a  voice  the  composure  of  which 
had  an  unnatural  contrast  with  the  alteration  of  his 
countenance,  'Am  I  to  conclude  that,  in  leaving  the 
protection  of  the  roof  in  which  I  placed  her,  the  girl  has 
found  shelter  under  that  of  your  Grace? ' 

'Sir,'  replied  Buckingham,  gravely,  'the  supposition 
does  my  gallantry  more  credit  than  it  deserves.' 

'Oh,  my  lord  duke,'  answered  Christian,  'I  am  not 
one  whom  you  can  impose  on  by  this  species  of  courtly 
jargon.  I  know  of  what  your  Grace  is  capable;  and  that, 
to  gratify  the  caprice  of  a  moment,  you  would  not  hes- 
itate to  disappoint  even  the  schemes  at  which  you  your- 
self have  laboured  most  busily.  Suppose  this  jest  played 
oflf.  Take  your  laugh  at  those  simple  precautions  by 
which  I  intended  to  protect  your  Grace's  interest,  as 
well  as  that  of  others.  Let  us  know  the  extent  of  your 
frolic,  and  consider  how  far  its  consequences  can  be  re- 
paired.' 

'On  my  word,  Christian,'  said  the  duke,  laughing,  'you 
are  the  most  obliging  of  uncles  and  of  guardians.  Let 
your  niece  pass  through  as  many  adventures  as  Boc- 
caccio's bride  of  the  King  of  Garba,  you  care  not.  Pure 

263 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

or  soiled,  she  will  still  make  the  footstool  of  your  for- 
tune,' 

An  Indian  proverb  says  that  the  dart  of  contempt  will 
even  pierce  through  the  shell  of  the  tortoise;  but  this  is 
more  peculiarly  the  case  when  conscience  tells  the  sub- 
ject of  the  sarcasm  that  it  is  justly  merited.  Christian, 
stung  with  Buckingham's  reproach,  at  once  assumed 
a  haughty  and  threatening  mien,  totally  inconsistent 
with  that  in  which  sufferance  seemed  to  be  as  much  his 
badge  as  that  of  Shylock.  '  You  are  a  foul-mouthed  and 
most  unworthy  lord,'  he  said;  'and  as  such  I  will  pro- 
claim you,  unless  you  make  reparation  for  the  injury 
you  have  done  me.' 

*And  what,'  said  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  'shall  I 
proclaim  you,  that  can  give  you  the  least  title  to  notice 
from  such  as  I  am?  What  name  shall  I  bestow  on  the 
little  transaction  which  has  given  rise  to  such  unex- 
pected misunderstanding? ' 

Christian  was  silent,  either  from  rage  or  from  mental 
conviction. 

'Come  —  come.  Christian,'  said  the  duke,  smiling, 
'we  know  too  much  of  each  other  to  make  a  quarrel  safe. 
Hate  each  other  we  may,  circumvent  each  other  —  it  is 
the  way  of  courts — but  proclaim !  a  fico  for  the  phrase.' 

*I  used  it  not,'  said  Christian,  'till  your  Grace  drove 
me  to  extremity.  You  know,  my  lord,  I  have  fought 
both  at  home  and  abroad;  and  you  should  not  rashly 
think  that  I  will  endure  any  indignity  which  blood  can 
wipe  away.' 

'On  the  contrary,'  said  the  duke,  with  the  same  civil 
and  sneering  manner,  '  I  can  confidently  assert  that  the 
life  of  half  a  score  of  your  friends  would  seem  very  light 

264 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

to  you,  Christian,  if  their  existence  interfered,  I  do  not 
say  with  your  character,  as  being  a  thing  of  much  less 
consequence,  but  with  any  advantage  which  their  exist- 
ence might  intercept.  Fie  upon  it,  man,  we  have  known 
each  other  long.  I  never  thought  you  a  coward,  and  am 
only  glad  to  see  I  could  strike  a  few  sparkles  of  heat  out 
of  your  cold  and  constant  disposition.  I  will  now,  if  you 
please,  tell  you  at  once  the  fate  of  the  young  lady,  in 
which  I  pray  you  to  believe  I  that  am  truly  interested.' 

'I  hear  you,  my  lord  duke,'  said  Christian.  'The  curl 
of  your  upper  lip  and  your  eyebrow  does  not  escape  me. 
Your  Grace  knows  the  French  proverb,  "He  laughs  best 
who  laughs  last."  But  I  hear  you.' 

'Thank  Heaven  you  do,'  said  Buckingham;  'for  your 
case  requires  haste,  I  promise  you,  and  involves  no  laugh- 
ing matter.  Well,  then,  hear  a  simple  truth,  on  which, 
if  it  became  me  to  offer  any  pledge  for  what  I  assert  to 
be  such,  I  could  pledge  life,  fortune,  and  honour.  It 
was  the  morning  before  last,  when,  meeting  with  the 
King  at  Chiffinch's  unexpectedly  —  in  fact,  I  had 
looked  in  to  fool  an  hour  away,  and  to  learn  how  your 
scheme  advanced  —  I  saw  a  singular  scene.  Your  niece 
terrified  Httle  Chiffinch  —  the  hen  Chiffinch,  I  mean  — 
bid  the  King  defiance  to  his  teeth,  and  walked  out  of 
the  presence  triumphantly,  under  the  guardianship  of  a 
young  fellow  of  little  mark  or  Ukehhood,  excepting  a 
tolerable  personal  presence  and  the  advantage  of  a  most 
unconquerable  impudence.  Egad,  I  can  hardly  help 
laughing  to  think  how  the  King  and  I  were  both  baffled; 
for  I  will  not  deny  that  I  had  tried  to  trifle  for  a  moment 
with  the  fair  Indamora.  But,  egad,  the  young  fellow 
swooped  her  off  from  under  our  noses  like  my  own  Draw- 

265 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cansir  clearing  o£f  the  banquet  from  the  two  kings  of 
Brentford.  There  was  a  dignity  in  the  gallant's  swag- 
gering retreat  which  I  must  try  to  teach  Mohun;^  it  will 
suit  his  part  admirably.' 

'This  is  incomprehensible,  my  lord  duke,'  said  Chris- 
tian, who  by  this  time  had  recovered  all  his  usual  cool- 
ness; 'you  cannot  expect  me  to  believe  this.  Who  dared 
be  so  bold  as  to  carry  off  my  niece  in  such  a  manner,  and 
from  so  august  a  presence?  And  with  whom,  a  stranger 
as  he  must  have  been,  would  she,  wise  and  cautious  as  I 
know  her,  have  consented  to  depart  in  such  a  manner? 
My  lord,  I  cannot  beHeve  this.' 

'One  of  your  priests,  my  most  devout  Christian,'  re- 
plied the  duke,  'would  only  answer,  "Die,  infidel,  in 
thine  unbelief";  but  I  am  only  a  poor  worldling  sinner, 
and  will  add  what  mite  of  information  I  can.  The 
young  fellow's  name,  as  I  am  given  to  understand,  is 
JuHan,  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  whom  men  call  Peveril  of  the 
Peak.' 

'Peveril  of  the  Devil,  who  hath  his  cavern  there!'  said 
Christian,  warmly;  'for  I  know  that  gallant,  and  be- 
lieve him  capable  of  anything  bold  and  desperate.  But 
how  could  he  intrude  himself  into  the  royal  presence? 
Either  Hell  aids  him  or  Heaven  looks  nearer  into  moral 
dealings  than  I  have  yet  believed.  If  so,  may  God  for- 
give us,  who  deemed  He  thought  not  on  us  at  all!' 

'Amen,  most  Christian  Christian,'  replied  the  duke. 
'  I  am  glad  to  see  thou  hast  yet  some  touch  of  grace  that 
leads  thee  to  augur  so.  But  Empson,  the  hen  ChiflSnch, 
and  half  a  dozen  more,  saw  the  swain's  entrance  and 
departure.  Please  examine  these  witnesses  with  your 

*  Then  a  noted  actor. 
266 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

own  wisdom,  if  you  think  your  time  may  not  be  better 
employed  in  tracing  the  fugitives.  I  believe  he  gained 
entrance  as  one  of  some  dancing  or  masking  party. 
Rowley,  you  know,  is  accessible  to  all  who  will  come 
forth  to  make  him  sport.  So  in  stole  this  termagant, 
tearing  gallant,  like  Samson  among  the  Philistines,  to 
pull  down  our  fine  scheme  about  our  ears.' 

'I  believe  you,  my  lord,'  said  Christian —  I  cannot 
but  believe  you ;  and  I  forgive  you,  since  it  is  your  na- 
ture, for  making  sport  of  what  is  ruin  and  destruction. 
But  which  way  did  they  take? ' 

'To  Derbyshire,  I  should  presume,  to  seek  her  father,' 
said  the  duke.  *  She  spoke  of  going  into  the  paternal  pro- 
tection, instead  of  yours,  Master  Christian.  Something 
had  chanced  at  Chiffinch's  to  give  her  cause  to  suspect 
that  you  had  not  altogether  provided  for  his  daughter  in 
the  manner  which  her  father  was  likely  to  approve  of.' 

'Now,  Heaven  be  praised,'  said  Christian,  'she  knows 
not  her  father  is  come  to  London!  and  they  must  be 
gone  down  either  to  Martindale  Castle  or  to  Moultrassie 
Hall;  in  either  case  they  are  in  my  power;  I  must  follow 
them  close.  I  will  return  instantly  to  Derbyshire.  I  am 
undone  if  she  meet  her  father  until  these  errors  are 
amended.  Adieu,  my  lord.  I  forgive  the  part  which  I 
fear  your  Grace  must  have  had  in  baulking  our  enter- 
prise; it  is  no  time  for  mutual  reproaches.' 

'You  speak  truth,  Master  Christian,'  said  the  duke, 
'and  I  wish  you  all  success.  Can  I  help  you  with  men 
or  horses  or  money? ' 

'I  thank  your  Grace,'  said  Christian,  and  hastily  left 
the  apartment. 

The  Duke  watched  his  descending  footsteps  on  the 
267 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

staircase,  until  they  could  be  heard  no  longer,  and  then 
exclaimed  to  Jerningham,  who  entered,  *  Victoria  I  vic- 
toria I  magna  est  Veritas  et  prcBvalebit !  Had  I  told  the  vil- 
lain a  word  of  a  lie,  he  is  so  familiar  with  all  the  regions 
of  falsehood  —  his  whole  life  has  been  such  an  absolute 
imposture  —  that  I  had  stood  detected  in  an  instant; 
but  I  told  him  truth,  and  that  was  the  only  means  of 
deceiving  him.  Victoria  I  my  dear  Jerningham,  I  am 
prouder  of  cheating  Christian  than  I  should  have  been 
of  circumventing  a  minister  of  state.' 

'Your  Grace  holds  his  wisdom  very  high,'  said  the 
attendant. 

'His  cunning,  at  least,  I  do,  which,  in  court  affairs, 
often  takes  the  weather-gage  of  wisdom,  as  in  Yar- 
mouth Roads  a  herring-buss  will  baffle  a  frigate.  He 
shall  not  return  to  London  if  I  can  help  it  until  all  these 
intrigues  are  over.' 

As  his  Grace  spoke,  the  colonel,  after  whom  he  had 
repeatedly  made  inquiry,  was  announced  by  a  gentle- 
man of  his  household.  'He  met  not  Christian,  did  he?' 
said  the  duke,  hastily. 

'No,  my  lord,'  returned  the  domestic,  'the  colonel 
came  by  the  old  garden  staircase.' 

'I  judged  as  much,'  replied  the  duke;  "t  is  an  owl 
that  will  not  take  wing  in  daylight,  when  there  is  a 
thicket  left  to  skulk  under.  Here  he  comes  from  thread- 
ing lane,  vault,  and  ruinous  alley,  very  near  as  ominous 
a  creature  as  the  fowl  of  ill  augury  which  he  resembles.' 

The  colonel,  to  whom  no  other  appellation  seemed 
to  be  given  than  that  which  belonged  to  his  military  sta- 
tion, now  entered  the  apartment.  He  was  tall,  strongly 
built,  and  past  the  middle  period  of  Hf  e,  and  his  counten- 

268 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ance,  but  for  the  heavy  cloud  which  dwelt  upon  it,  might 
have  been  pronounced  a  handsome  one.  While  the  duke 
spoke  to  him,  either  from  humility  or  some  other  cause, 
his  large,  serious  eye  was  cast  down  upon  the  ground; 
but  he  raised  it,  when  he  answered,  with  a  keen  look  of 
earnest  observation.  His  dress  was  very  plain,  and 
more  allied  to  that  of  the  Puritans  than  of  the  Cava- 
liers of  the  time;  a  shadowy  black  hat  like  the  Spanish 
sombrero,  a  large  black  mantle  or  cloak,  and  a  long 
rapier,  gave  him  something  the  air  of  a  Castilione,  to 
which  his  gravity  and  stiffness  of  demeanour  added  con- 
siderable strength. 

'Well,  colonel,'  said  the  duke,  'we  have  been  long 
strangers;  how  have  matters  gone  with  you?' 

'As  with  other  men  of  action  in  quiet  times,'  answered 
the  colonel,  'or  as  a  good  war-caper  that  lies  high  and 
dry  in  a  muddy  creek  till  seams  and  planks  are  rent 
and  riven.' 

'Well,  colonel,'  said  the  duke,  'I  have  used  your 
valour  before  now,  and  I  may  again;  so  that  I  shall 
speedily  see  that  the  vessel  is  careened  and  undergoes  a 
thorough  repair.' 

'I  conjecture,  then,'  said  the  colonel,  'that  your 
Grace  has  some  voyage  in  hand? ' 

'No,  but  there  is  one  which  I  want  to  interrupt,'  re- 
plied the  duke. 

"Tis  but  another  stave  of  the  same  tune.  Well,  my 
lord,  I  Hsten,'  answered  the  stranger. 

'Nay,'  said  the  duke,  'it  is  but  a  trifling  matter  after 
all.  You  know  Ned  Christian? ' 

'Ay,  surely,  my  lord,'  replied  the  colonel  ;  'we  have 
been  long  known  to  each  other.' 

269 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'He  is  about  to  go  down  to  Derbyshire  to  seek  a  cer- 
tain niece  of  his,  whom  he  will  scarcely  find  there.  Now, 
I  trust  to  your  tried  friendship  to  interrupt  his  return 
to  London.  Go  with  him,  or  meet  him,  cajole  him,  or 
assail  him,  or  do  what  thou  wilt  with  him,  only  keep  him 
from  London  for  a  fortnight  at  least,  and  then  I  care 
little  how  soon  he  comes.' 

'For  by  that  time,  I  suppose,'  replied  the  colonel, 
'any  one  may  find  the  wench  that  thinks  her  worth  the 
looking  for.' 

'Thou  mayst  think  her  worth  the  looking  for  thyself, 
colonel,'  rejoined  the  duke;  'I  promise  you  she  hath 
many  a  thousand  stitched  to  her  petticoat;  such  a  wife 
would  save  thee  from  skeldering  on  the  public' 

'My  lord,  I  sell  my  blood  and  my  sword,  but  not 
my  honour,'  answered  the  man,  sullenly;  'if  I  marry, 
my  bed  may  be  a  poor,  but  it  shall  be  an  honest 
one.' 

'Then  thy  wife  will  be  the  only  honest  matter  in  thy 
possession,  colonel,  at  least  since  I  have  known  you,' 
replied  the  duke. 

'Why,  truly,  your  Grace  may  speak  your  pleasure 
on  that  point.  It  is  chiefly  your  business  which  I  have 
done  of  late;  and  if  it  were  less  strictly  honest  than  I 
could  have  wished,  the  employer  was  to  blame  as  well 
as  the  agent.  But  for  marrying  a  cast-off  mistress,  the 
man  —  saving  your  Grace,  to  whom  I  am  bound  — 
lives  not  who  dares  propose  it  to  me.' 

The  duke  laughed  loudly.  'Why,  this  is  mine  An- 
cient Pistol's  vein,'  he  replied. 

'  Shall  I  Sir  Pandarus  of  Troy  become, 
And  by  my  side  wear  steel?  then  Lucifer  take  all!' 

270 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'My  breeding  is  too  plain  to  understand  ends  of  play- 
house verse,  my  lord,'  said  the  colonel,  sullenly.  'Has 
•your  Grace  no  other  service  to  command  me?' 

'None;  only  I  am  told  you  have  published  a  Narra- 
tive concerning  the  Plot.'^ 

'What  should  ail  me,  my  lord?'  said  the  colonel.  'I 
hope  I  am  a  witness  as  competent  as  any  that  has  yet 
appeared? ' 

'Truly,  I  think  so  to  the  full,'  said  the  duke;  'and  it 
would  have  been  hard,  when  so  much  profitable  mis- 
chief was  going,  if  so  excellent  a  Protestant  as  yourself 
had  not  come  in  for  a  share.' 

'I  came  to  take  your  Grace's  commands,  not  to  be 
the  object  of  your  wit,'  said  the  colonel. 

'Gallantly  spoken,  most  resolute  and  most  immacu- 
late colonel !  As  you  are  to  be  on  full  pay  in  my  service 
for  a  month  to  come,  I  pray  your  acceptance  of  this 
purse,  for  contingents  and  equipments,  and  you  shall 
have  my  instructions  from  time  to  time.' 

'They  shall  be  punctually  obeyed,  my  lord,'  said  the 
colonel;  'I  know  the  duty  of  a  subaltern  ofl&cer.  I  wish 
your  Grace  a  good  morning.' 

So  saying,  he  pocketed  the  purse,  without  either  af- 
fecting hesitation  or  expressing  gratitude,  but  merely 
as  a  part  of  a  transaction  in  the  regular  way  of  business, 
and  stalked  from  the  apartment  with  the  same  sullen 
gravity  which  marked  his  entrance.  *  Now,  there  goes  a 
scoundrel  after  my  own  heart,'  said  the  duke;  'a  robber 
from  his  cradle,  a  murderer  since  he  could  hold  a  knife, 
a  profound  hypocrite  in  reHgion,  and  a  worse  and  deeper 
hypocrite  in  honour  —  would  sell  his  soul  to  the  devil 

'  See  Note  12. 
271 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  accomplish  any  villainy,  and  would  cut  the  throat 
of  his  brother,  did  he  dare  to  give  the  villainy  he  had  so 
acted  its  right  name.  Now,  why  stand  you  amazed, " 
good  Master  Jerningham,  and  look  on  me  as  you  would 
on  some  monster  of  Ind,  when  you  had  paid  your  shil- 
ling to  see  it,  and  were  staring  out  your  pennyworth 
with  your  eyes  as  round  as  a  pair  of  spectacles?  Wink, 
man,  and  save  them,  and  then  let  thy  tongue  untie  the 
mystery.' 

'On  my  word,  my  lord  duke,'  answered  Jerningham, 
*  since  I  am  compelled  to  speak,  I  can  only  say,  that  the 
longer  I  live  with  your  Grace,  I  am  the  more  at  a  loss  to 
fathom  your  motives  of  action.  Others  lay  plans,  either 
to  attain  profit  or  pleasure  by  their  execution;  but  your 
Grace's  delight  is  to  counteract  your  own  schemes,when 
in  the  very  act  of  performance,  like  a  child  —  forgive 
me  —  that  breaks  its  favourite  toy,  or  a  man  who 
should  set  fire  to  the  house  he  has  half  built.' 

*  And  why  not,  if  he  wanted  to  warm  his  hands  at  the 
blaze? '  said  the  duke. 

*Ay,  my  lord,'  replied  his  dependant;  'but  what  if,  in 
doing  so,  he  should  burn  his  fingers?  My  lord,  it  is  one 
of  your  noblest  qualities,  that  you  will  sometimes  listen 
to  the  truth  without  taking  offence;  but  were  it  other- 
wise, I  could  not,  at  this  moment,  help  speaking  out  at 
every  risk.' 

'Well,  say  on,  I  can  bear  it,'  said  the  duke,  throwing 
himself  into  an  easy  chair  and  using  his  toothpick  with 
graceful  indifference  and  equanimity;  'I  love  to  hear 
what  such  potsherds  as  thou  art  think  of  the  proceed- 
ings of  us  who  are  of  the  pure  porcelain  clay  of  the 
earth.' 

272 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'In  the  name  of  Heaven,  my  lord,  let  me  then  ask 
you,'  said  Jerningham,  'what  merit  you  claim,  or  what 
advantage  you  expect,  from  having  embroiled  every- 
thing in  which  you  are  concerned  to  a  degree  which 
equals  the  chaos  of  the  blind  old  Roundhead's  poem 
which  your  Grace  is  so  fond  of?  To  begin  with  the  King. 
In  spite  of  good-humour,  he  will  be  incensed  at  your 
repeated  rivalry.' 

'His  Majesty  defied  me  to  it.' 

'You  have  lost  all  hopes  of  the  isle,  by  quarrelling 
with  Christian.' 

'I  have  ceased  to  care  a  farthing  about  it,'  repHed  the 
duke. 

'In  Christian  himself,  whom  you  have  insulted,  and 
to  whose  family  you  intend  dishonour,  you  have  lost  a 
sagacious,  artful,  and  cool-headed  instrument  and  ad- 
herent,' said  the  monitor. 

'Poor  Jerningham!'  answered  the  duke;  'Christian 
would  say  as  much  for  thee,  I  doubt  not,  wert  thou  dis- 
carded to-morrow.  It  is  the  common  error  of  such  tools 
as  you  and  he  to  think  themselves  indispensable.  As  to 
his  family,  what  was  never  honourable  cannot  be  dis- 
honoured by  any  connexion  with  my  house.' 

'I  say  nothing  of  ChifSnch,'  said  Jerningham,  'of- 
fended as  he  will  be  when  he  learns  why,  and  by 
whom,  his  scheme  has  been  ruined  and  the  lady  spir- 
ited away.    He  and  his  wife  —  I  say  nothing  of  them.' 

'You  need  not,'  said  the  duke;  'for,  were  they  even  fit 
persons  to  speak  to  me  about,  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth has  bargained  for  their  disgrace.' 

'Then  this  bloodhound  of  a  colonel,  as  he  calls  him- 
self —  your  Grace  cannot  even  lay  him  on  a  quest  which 
28  273 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

is  to  do  you  service,  but  you  must  do  him  such  indignity 
at  the  same  time  as  he  will  not  fail  to  remember,  and  be 
sure  to  fly  at  your  throat  should  he  ever  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  turning  on  you.' 

*I  will  take  care  he  has  none,'  said  the  duke;  'and 
yours,  Jerningham,  is  a  low-lived  apprehension.  Beat 
your  spaniel  heartily  if  you  would  have  him  under  com- 
mand. Ever  let  your  agents  see  you  know  what  they 
are,  and  prize  them  accordingly.  A  rogue,  who  must 
needs  be  treated  as  a  man  of  honour,  is  apt  to  get  above 
his  work.  Enough,  therefore,  of  your  advice  and  cen- 
sure, Jerningham;  we  differ  in  every  particular.  Were 
we  both  engineers,  you  would  spend  your  life  in  watch- 
ing some  old  woman's  wheel,  which  spins  flax  by  the 
ounce;  I  must  be  in  the  midst  of  the  most  varied  and 
counteracting  machinery,  regulating  checks  and  coun- 
ter-checks, balancing  weights,  proving  springs  and 
wheels,  directing  and  controlling  a  hundred  combined 
powers.' 

'And  your  fortune,  in  the  meanwhile?'  said  Jerning- 
ham; 'pardon  this  last  hint,  my  lord.' 

'My  fortune,'  said  the  duke,  'is  too  vast  to  be  hurt  by 
a  petty  wound;  and  I  have,  as  thou  knowest,  a  thousand 
salves  in  store  for  the  scratches  and  scars  which  it  some- 
times receives  in  greasing  my  machinery.' 

'Your  Grace  does  not  mean  Dr.  Wilderhead's  pow- 
der of  projection? ' 

'Pshaw!  he  is  a  quacksalver,  and  mountebank,  and 
beggar.' 

'Or  Solicitor  Drowndland's  plan  for  draining  the 
fens?' 

'He  is  a  cheat  —  videlicet,  an  attorney.' 
274 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Or  the  Laird  of  Lackpelf's  sale  of  Highland  woods?' 

'He  is  a  Scotsman/  said  the  duke  —  'videlicet,  both 
cheat  and  beggar.' 

'  These  streets  here,  upon  the  site  of  your  noble  man- 
sion-house?' said  Jerningham. 

*  The  architect 's  a  bite,  and  the  plan 's  a  bubble.  I  am 
sick  of  the  sight  of  this  rubbish,  and  I  will  soon  replace 
our  old  alcoves,  alleys,  and  flower-pots  by  an  Italian 
garden  and  a  new  palace.' 

'That,  my  lord,  would  be  to  waste,  not  to  improve, 
your  fortune,'  said  his  domestic. 

'  Clodpate  and  muddy  spirit  that  thou  art,  thou  hast 
forgot  the  most  hopeful  scheme  of  all  —  the  South  Sea 
Fisheries;  their  stock  is  up  50  per  cent  already.  Post 
down  to  the  Alley  and  tell  old  Manasses  to  buy  £20,- 
ocx)  for  me.  Forgive  me,  Plutus,  I  forgot  to  lay  my 
sacrifice  on  thy  shrine,  and  yet  expected  thy  favours! 
Fly  post  haste,  Jerningham  —  for  thy  life,  for  thy  life, 
for  thy  lifel'i 

With  hands  and  eyes  upHfted,  Jerningham  left  the 
apartment;  and  the  duke,  without  thinking  a  moment 
further  on  old  or  new  intrigues,  on  the  friendship  he  had 
formed,  or  the  enmity  he  had  provoked,  on  the  beauty 
whom  he  had  carried  off  from  her  natural  protectors,  as 
well  as  from  her  lover,  or  on  the  monarch  against  whom 
he  had  placed  himself  in  rivalship,  sat  down  to  calculate 
chances  with  all  the  zeal  of  De  Moivre;  tired  of  the 
drudgery  in  half  an  hour ;  and  refused  to  see  the  zealous 
agent  whom  he  had  employed  in  the  city,  because  he 
was  busily  engaged  in  writing  a  new  lampoon. 

*  See  Note  13. 


CHAPTER  XXXrX 

Ah  I  changeful  head  and  fickle  heart  I 

Progress  of  Discontent. 

No  event  is  more  ordinary  in  narratives  of  this  nature 
than  the  abduction  of  the  female  on  whose  fate  the  in- 
terest is  supposed  to  turn;  but  that  of  Alice  Bridgenorth 
was  thus  far  particular,  that  she  was  spirited  away  by 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham  more  in  contradiction  than  in 
the  rivalry  of  passion;  and  that,  as  he  made  his  first  ad- 
dresses to  her  at  Chiffinch's  rather  in  the  spirit  of  rivalry 
to  his  sovereign  than  from  any  strong  impression  which 
her  beauty  had  made  on  his  affections,  so  he  had  formed 
the  sudden  plan  of  spiriting  her  away  by  means  of  his 
dependants  rather  to  perplex  Christian,  the  King,  Chif- 
finch,  and  all  concerned,  than  because  he  had  any  par- 
ticular desire  for  her  society  at  his  own  mansion.  In- 
deed, so  far  was  this  from  being  the  case,  that  his  Grace 
was  rather  surprised  than  delighted  with  the  success  of 
the  enterprise  which  had  made  her  an  inmate  there,  al- 
though it  is  probable  he  might  have  thrown  himself  into 
an  uncontrollable  passion  had  he  learned  its  miscarriage 
instead  of  its  success. 

Twenty-four  hours  passed  over  since  he  had  returned 
to  his  own  roof  before,  notwithstanding  sundry  hints 
from  Jemingham,  he  could  even  determine  on  the  exer- 
tion necessary  to  pay  his  fair  captive  a  visit ;  and  then 
it  was  with  the  internal  reluctance  of  one  who  can  only 
be  stirred  from  indolence  by  novelty. 

276 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'I  wonder  what  made  me  plague  myself  about  this 
wench,'  said  he,  *and  doom  myself  to  encounter  all  the 
hysterical  rhapsodies  of  a  country  Phillis,  with  her  head 
stuffed  with  her  grandmother's  lessons  about  virtue  and 
the  Bible-book,  when  the  finest  and  best-bred  women 
in  town  may  be  had  upon  more  easy  terms.  It  is  a  pity 
one  cannot  mount  the  victor's  car  of  triumph  without 
having  a  victory  to  boast  of;  yet,  faith,  it  is  what  most 
of  our  modern  gallants  do,  though  it  would  not  become 
Buckingham.  Well,  I  must  see  her,'  he  concluded, 
*  though  it  were  but  to  rid  the  house  of  her.  The  Ports- 
mouth will  not  hear  of  her  being  set  at  liberty  near 
Charles,  so  much  is  she  afraid  of  a  new  fair  seducing  the 
old  sinner  from  his  allegiance.  So  how  the  girl  is  to  be 
disposed  of  —  for  I  shall  have  little  fancy  to  keep  her 
here,  and  she  is  too  wealthy  to  be  sent  down  to  Cliefden 
as  a  housekeeper  —  is  a  matter  to  be  thought  on.' 

He  then  called  for  such  a  dress  as  might  set  ofif  his 
natural  good  mien  —  a  compliment  which  he  considered 
as  due  to  his  own  merit ;  for  as  to  anything  further,  he 
went  to  pay  his  respects  to  his  fair  prisoner  with  almost 
as  little  zeal  in  the  cause  as  a  gallant  to  fight  a  duel  in 
which  he  has  no  warmer  interest  than  the  maintenance 
of  his  reputation  as  a  man  of  honour. 

The  set  of  apartments  consecrated  to  the  use  of  those 
favourites  who  occasionally  made  Buckingham's  man- 
sion their  place  of  abode,  and  who  were,  so  far  as  liberty 
was  concerned,  often  required  to  observe  the  regula- 
tions of  a  convent,  were  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
duke's  extensive  mansion.  He  lived  in  the  age  when 
what  was  called  gallantry  warranted  the  most  atrocious 
actions  of  deceit  and  violence;  as  may  be  best  illustrated 

277 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

by  the  catastrophe  of  an  unfortunate  actress,  whose 
beauty  attracted  the  attention  of  the  last  De  Vere,  Earl 
of  Oxford.  While  her  virtue  defied  his  seductions,  he 
ruined  her  under  colour  of  a  mock  marriage,  and  was 
rewarded  for  a  success  which  occasioned  the  death  of  his 
victim  by  the  general  applause  of  the  men  of  wit  and 
gallantry  who  filled  the  drawing-room  of  Charles. 

Buckingham  had  made  provision  in  the  interior  of  his 
ducal  mansion  for  exploits  of  a  similar  nature;  and  the 
set  of  apartments  which  he  now  visited  were  alternately 
used  to  confine  the  reluctant  and  to  accommodate  the 
willing. 

Being  now  destined  for  the  former  purpose,  the  key 
was  delivered  to  the  duke  by  a  hooded  and  spectacled 
old  lady,  who  sat  reading  a  devout  book  in  the  outer 
hall  which  divided  these  apartments,  usually  called  the 
Nunnery,  from  the  rest  of  the  house.  This  experienced 
dowager  acted  as  mistress  of  the  ceremonies  on  such 
occasions,  and  was  the  trusty  depositary  of  more  in- 
trigues than  were  known  to  any  dozen  of  her  worshipful 
calling  besides. 

'As  sweet  a  linnet,'  she  said,  as  she  undid  the  out- 
ward door,  'as  ever  sung  in  a  cage.' 

'I  was  afraid  she  might  have  been  more  for  moping 
than  for  singing,  Dowlas,'  said  the  duke. 

'Till  yesterday  she  was  so,  please  your  Grace,'  an- 
swered Dowlas;  'or,  to  speak  sooth,  till  early  this  morn- 
ing, we  heard  of  nothing  but  lachrymcB,  But  the  air  of 
your  noble  Grace's  house  is  favourable  to  singing-birds, 
and  to-day  matters  have  been  a-much  mended.' 

"T  is  sudden,  dame,'  said  the  duke;  'and  't  is  some- 
thing strange,  considering  that  I  have  never  visited  her, 

278 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

that  the  pretty  trembler  should  have  been  so  soon  recon- 
ciled to  her  fate.' 

*  Ah,  your  Grace  has  such  magic  that  it  communicates 
itself  to  your  very  walls;  as  wholesome  Scripture  says, 
Exodus,  first  and  seventh,  "It  cleaveth  to  the  walls  and 
the  door-posts. " ' 

*  You  are  too  partial,  Dame  Dowlas,'  said  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham. 

'Not  a  word  but  truth,'  said  the  dame;  'and  I  wish  I 
may  be  an  outcast  from  the  fold  of  the  lambs,  but  I 
think  this  damsel's  very  frame  has  changed  since  she 
was  under  your  Grace's  roof.  Methinks  she  hath  a 
lighter  form,  a  finer  step,  a  more  displayed  ankle  —  I 
cannot  tell,  but  I  think  there  is  a  change.  But  lack-a- 
day,  your  Grace  knows  I  am  as  old  as  I  am  trusty,  and 
that  my  eyes  wax  something  uncertain.' 

*  Especially  when  you  wash  them  with  a  cup  of  canary, 
Dame  Dowlas,'  answered  the  duke,  who  was  aware  that 
temperance  was  not  amongst  the  cardinal  virtues  which 
were  most  familiar  to  the  old  lady's  practice. 

'Was  it  canary,  your  Grace  said?  Was  it  indeed 
with  canary  that  your  Grace  should  have  supposed 
me  to  have  washed  my  eyes?'  said  the  offended  ma- 
tron. *I  am  sorry  that  your  Grace  should  know  me  no 
better.' 

'I  crave  your  pardon,  dame,'  said  the  duke,  shaking 
aside,  fastidiously,  the  grasp  which,  in  the  earnestness  of 
her  exculpation.  Madam  Dowlas  had  clutched  upon  his 
sleeve  —  'I  crave  your  pardon.  Your  nearer  approach 
has  convinced  me  of  my  erroneous  imputation :  I  should 
have  said  Nantz,  not  canary.' 

So  saying,  he  walked  forward  into  the  inner  apart- 
279 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ments,  which  were  fitted  up  with  an  air  of  voluptuous 

magnificence. 

'The  dame  said  true,  however,'  said  the  proud  deviser 
and  proprietor  of  the  splendid  mansion.  *A  country 
Phillis  might  well  reconcile  herself  to  such  a  prison  as 
this,  even  without  a  skilful  bird-fancier  to  touch  a  bird- 
call. But  I  wonder  where  she  can  be,  this  rural  Phidele. 
Is  it  possible  she  can  have  retreated,  like  a  despairing 
commandant,  into  her  bedchamber,  the  very  citadel  of 
the  place,  without  even  an  attempt  to  defend  the  out- 
works? ' 

As  he  made  this  reflection,  he  passed  through  an  ante- 
chamber and  little  eating-parlour,  exquisitely  furnished, 
and  hung  with  excellent  paintings  of  the  Venetian  school. 

Beyond  these  lay  a  withdrawing-room,  fitted  up  in  a 
style  of  still  more  studied  elegance.  The  windows  were 
darkened  with  painted  glass,  of  such  a  deep  and  rich 
colour  as  made  the  mid-day  beams,  which  found  their 
way  into  the  apartment,  imitate  the  rich  colours  of  sun- 
set ;  and,  in  the  celebrated  expression  of  the  poet, '  taught 
light  to  counterfeit  a  gloom.' 

Buckingham's  feelings  and  taste  had  been  too  much, 
and  too  often,  and  too  readily,  gratified  to  permit  him, 
in  the  general  case,  to  be  easily  accessible,  even  to  those 
pleasures  which  it  had  been  the  business  of  his  fife  to  pur- 
sue. The  hackneyed  voluptuary  is  like  the  jaded  epicure, 
the  mere  listlessness  of  whose  appetite  becomes  at  length 
a  sufiicient  penalty  for  having  made  it  the  principal  ob- 
ject of  his  enjoyment  and  cultivation.  Yet  novelty  has 
always  some  charms,  and  uncertainty  has  more. 

The  doubt  how  he  was  to  be  received,  the  change  of 
mood  which  his  prisoner  was  said  to  have  evinced,  the 

2S0 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

curiosity  to  know  how  such  a  creature  as  Alice  Bridge- 
north  had  been  described  was  hkely  to  bear  herself  under 
the  circumstances  in  which  she  was  so  unexpectedly 
placed,  had  upon  Buckingham  the  effect  of  exciting  un- 
usual interest.  On  his  own  part,  he  had  none  of  those 
feelings  of  anxiety  with  which  a  man,  even  of  the  most 
vulgar  mind,  comes  to  the  presence  of  the  female  whom 
he  wishes  to  please,  far  less  the  more  refined  sentiments 
of  love,  respect,  desire,  and  awe  with  which  the  more  re- 
fined lover  approaches  the  beloved  object.  He  had  been, 
to  use  an  expressive  French  phrase,  too  completely 
blase  even  from  his  earliest  youth  to  permit  him  now  to 
experience  the  animal  eagerness  of  the  one,  far  less  the 
more  sentimental  pleasure  of  the  other.  It  is  no  small 
aggravation  of  this  jaded  and  uncomfortable  state  of 
mind  that  the  voluptuary  cannot  renounce  the  pursuits 
with  which  he  is  satiated,  but  must  continue,  for  his 
character's  sake,  or  from  the  mere  force  of  habit,  to  take 
all  the  toil,  fatigue,  and  danger  of  the  chase,  while  he  has 
so  little  real  interest  in  the  termination. 

Buckingham,  therefore,  felt  it  due  to  his  reputation 
as  a  successful  hero  of  intrigue  to  pay  his  addresses  to 
Alice  Bridgenorth  with  dissembled  eagerness;  and,  as  he 
opened  the  door  of  the  inner  apartment,  he  paused  to 
consider  whether  the  tone  of  gallantry  or  that  of  passion 
was  fittest  to  use  on  the  occasion.  This  delay  enabled 
him  to  hear  a  few  notes  of  a  lute,  touched  with  exqui- 
site skill,  and  accompanied  by  the  still  sweeter  strains  of 
a  female  voice,  which,  without  executing  any  complete 
melody,  seemed  to  sport  itself  in  rivalship  of  the  silver 
sound  of  the  instrument. 

*  A  creature  so  well  educated,'  said  the  duke,  'with  the 
281 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sense  she  is  said  to  possess,  would,  rustic  as  she  is,  laugh 
at  the  assumed  rants  of  Oroondates.  It  is  the  vein  of 
Dorimant  —  once,  Buckingham,  thine  own  —  that  must 
here  do  the  feat,  besides  that  the  part  is  easier.' 

So  thinking,  he  entered  the  room  with  that  easy  grace 
which  characterised  the  gay  courtiers  among  whom  he 
flourished,  and  approached  the  fair  tenant,  whom  he 
found  seated  near  a  table  covered  with  books  and  music, 
and  having  on  her  left  hand  the  large  half-open  case- 
ment, dim  with  stained  glass,  admitting  only  a  doubtful 
light  into  this  lordly  retiring-room,  which,  hung  with  the 
richest  tapestry  of  the  Gobelines,  and  ornamented  with 
piles  of  china  and  splendid  mirrors,  seemed  like  a  bower 
built  for  a  prince  to  receive  his  bride. 

The  splendid  dress  of  the  inmate  corresponded  with 
the  taste  of  the  apartment  which  she  occupied,  and  par- 
took of  the  Oriental  costume  which  the  much-admired 
Roxalana  had  then  brought  into  fashion.  A  slender  foot 
and  ankle,  which  escaped  from  the  wide  trowser  of  richly 
ornamented  and  embroidered  blue  satin,  was  the  only 
part  of  her  person  distinctly  seen ;  the  rest  was  enveloped, 
from  head  to  foot,  in  a  long  veil  of  silver  gauze,  which, 
hke  a  feathery  and  light  mist  on  a  beautiful  landscape, 
suffered  you  to  perceive  that  what  it  concealed  was 
rarely  lovely,  yet  induced  the  imagination  even  to  en- 
hance the  charms  it  shaded.  Such  part  of  the  dress  as 
could  be  discovered,  was,  like  the  veil  and  the  trows- 
ers,  in  the  Oriental  taste ;  a  rich  turban  and  splendid  caf- 
tan were  rather  indicated  than  distinguished  through 
the  folds  of  the  former.  The  whole  attire  argued  at  least 
coquetry  on  the  part  of  a  fair  one,  who  must  have  ex- 
pected, from  her  situation,  a  visitor  of  some  pretension; 

282 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  induced  Buckingham  to  smile  internally  at  Chris- 
tian's account  of  the  extreme  simplicity  and  purity  of 
his  niece. 

He  approached  the  lady  en  cavalier,  and  addressed  her 
with  the  air  of  being  conscious,  while  he  acknowledged 
his  offences,  that  his  condescending  to  do  so  formed  a 
sufficient  apology  for  them,  'Fair  Mistress  Alice,'  he 
said, '  I  am  sensible  how  deeply  I  ought  to  sue  for  pardon 
for  the  mistaken  zeal  of  my  servants,  who,  seeing  you  de- 
serted and  exposed  without  protection  during  an  un- 
lucky affray,  took  it  upon  them  to  bring  you  under  the 
roof  of  one  who  would  expose  his  life  rather  than  suffer 
you  to  sustain  a  moment's  anxiety.  Was  it  my  fault  that 
those  around  me  should  have  judged  it  necessary  to  inter- 
fere for  your  preservation ;  or  that,  aware  of  the  interest 
I  must  take  in  you,  they  have  detained  you  till  I  could 
myself,  in  personal  attendance,  receive  your  commands? ' 

'That  attendance  has  not  been  speedily  rendered,  my 
lord,'  answered  the  lady.  *I  have  been  a  prisoner  for  two 
days  —  neglected,  and  left  to  the  charge  of  menials.' 

*  How  say  you,  lady?  Neglected ! '  exclaimed  the  duke. 
'By  Heaven,  if  the  best  in  my  household  has  failed  in  his 
duty,  I  will  discard  him  on  the  instant!' 

*  I  complain  of  no  lack  of  courtesy  from  your  servants, 
my  lord,'  she  replied;  'but  methinks  it  had  been  com- 
plaisant in  the  duke  himself  to  explain  to.  me  earlier 
wherefore  he  has  had  the  boldness  to  detain  me  as  a  state 
prisoner.' 

'And  can  the  divine  Alice  doubt,'  said  Buckingham, 
'that,  had  time  and  space,  those  cruel  enemies  to  the 
flight  of  passion,  given  permission,  the  instant  in  which 
you  crossed  your  vassal's  threshold  had  seen  its  devoted 

283 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

master  at  your  feet,  who  hath  thought,  since  he  saw  you, 
of  nothing  but  the  charms  which  that  fatal  morning 
placed  before  him  at  Chiffinch's? ' 

'I  understand,  then,  my  lord,'  said  the  lady,  'that  you 
have  been  absent,  and  have  had  no  part  in  the  restraint 
which  has  been  exercised  upon  me? ' 

'Absent  on  the  King's  command,  lady,  and  employed 
in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,'  answered  Buckingham, 
without  hesitation.  'What  could  I  do?  The  moment  you 
left  Chiffinch's,  his  Majesty  commanded  me  to  the  sad- 
dle in  such  haste  that  I  had  no  time  to  change  my  satin 
buckskins  for  riding-boots.^  If  my  absence  has  occa- 
sioned you  a  moment  of  inconvenience,  blame  the  incon- 
siderate zeal  of  those  who,  seeing  me  depart  from  Lon- 
don, half  distracted  at  my  separation  from  you,  were 
wilKng  to  contribute  their  unmannered,  though  well- 
meant,  exertions  to  preserve  their  master  from  despair, 
by  retaining  the  fair  Alice  within  his  reach.  To  whom, 
indeed,  could  they  have  restored  you?  He  whom  you 
selected  as  your  champion  is  in  prison  or  fled,  your 
father  absent  from  town,  your  uncle  in  the  north.  To 
Chiffinch's  house  you  had  expressed  your  well-founded 
aversion ;  and  what  fitter  asylum  remained  than  that  of 
your  devoted  slave,  where  you  must  ever  reign  a  queen? ' 

'An  imprisoned  one,'  said  the  lady.  'I  desire  not  such 
royalty.' 

'Alas!  how  wilfully  you  misconstrue  me!'  said  the 
duke,  kneeling  on  one  knee;  'and  what  right  can  you 
have  to  complain  of  a  few  hours'  gentle  restraint — you, 
who  destine  so  many  to  hopeless  captivity!  Be  merciful 
for  once,  and  withdraw  that  envious  veil;  for  the  di\4n- 
*  See  Note  14. 
284 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ities  are  ever  most  cruel  when  they  deliver  their  oracles 
from  such  clouded  recesses.  Suffer  at  least  my  rash 
hand  — ' 

*I  will  save  your  Grace  that  im worthy  trouble/  said 
the  lady,  haughtily;  and  rising  up,  she  flung  back  over 
her  shoulders  the  veil  which  shrouded  her,  saying,  at  the 
same  time,  '  Look  on  me,  my  lord  duke,  and  see  if  these 
be  indeed  the  charms  which  have  made  on  your  Grace 
an  impression  so  powerful.' 

Buckingham  did  look;  and  the  effect  produced  on  him 
by  surprise  was  so  strong  that  he  rose  hastily  from  his 
knee,  and  remained  for  a  few  seconds  as  if  he  had  been 
petrified.  The  figure  that  stood  before  him  had  neither 
the  height  nor  the  rich  shape  of  Alice  Bridgenorth;  and, 
though  perfectly  well  made,  was  so  sHghtly  formed  as  to 
seem  almost  infantine.  Her  dress  was  three  or  four  short 
vests  of  embroidered  satin,  disposed  one  over  the  other, 
of  different  colours,  or  rather  different  shades  of  similar 
colours;  for  strong  contrast  was  carefully  avoided.  These 
opened  in  front,  so  as  to  show  part  of  the  throat  and  neck, 
partially  obscured  by  an  inner  covering  of  the  finest  lace ; 
over  the  uppermost  vest  was  worn  a  sort  of  mantle  or 
coat  of  rich  fur.  A  small  but  magnificent  turban  was 
carelessly  placed  on  her  head,  from  under  which  flowed 
a  profusion  of  coal-black  tresses,  which  Cleopatra  might 
have  envied.  The  taste  and  splendour  of  the  Eastern 
dress  corresponded  with  the  complexion  of  the  lady's 
face,  which  was  brunette,  of  a  shade  so  dark  as  might 
almost  have  served  an  Indian. 

Amidst  a  set  of  features  in  which  rapid  and  keen  ex- 
pression made  amends  for  the  want  of  regular  beauty, 
the  essential  points  of  eyes  as  bright  as  diamonds  and 

285 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

teeth  as  white  as  pearls  did  not  escape  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, a  professed  connoisseur  in  female  charms.  In  a 
word,  the  fanciful  and  singular  female  who  thus  unex- 
pectedly produced  herself  before  him  had  one  of  those 
faces  which  are  never  seen  without  making  an  impres- 
sion; which,  when  removed,  are  long  after  remembered; 
and  for  which,  in  our  idleness,  we  are  tempted  to  invent 
a  himdred  histories,  that  we  may  please  our  fancy  by 
supposing  the  features  under  the  influence  of  different 
kinds  of  emotion.  Every  one  must  have  in  recollection 
countenances  of  this  kind,  which,  from  a  captivating  and 
stimulating  originality  of  expression,  abide  longer  in  the 
memory,  and  are  more  seductive  to  the  imagination, 
than  even  regular  beauty. 

*My  lord  duke,'  said  the  lady,  'it  seems  the  lifting  of 
my  veil  has  done  the  work  of  magic  upon  your  Grace. 
Alas,  for  the  captive  princess,  whose  nod  was  to  com- 
mand a  vassal  so  costly  as  your  Grace!  She  runs,  me- 
thinks,  no  slight  chance  of  being  turned  out  of  doors, 
like  a  second  Cinderella,  to  seek  her  fortune  among 
lackeys  and  lightermen.' 

*  I  am  astonished ! '  said  the  duke.  *  That  villain,  Jem- 
ingham  —  I  will  have  the  scoundrel's  blood!' 

*Nay,  never  abuse  Jerningham  for  the  matter,'  said 
the  Unknown;  'but  lament  your  own  unhappy  engage- 
ments. While  you,  my  lord  duke,  were  posting  north- 
ward, in  white  satin  buskins,  to  toil  in  the  King's  affairs, 
the  right  and  lawful  princess  sat  weeping  in  sables  in  the 
imcheered  soHtude  to  which  your  absence  condemned 
her.  Two  days  she  was  disconsolate  in  vain;  on  the  third 
came  an  African  enchantress  to  change  the  scene  for  her, 
and  the  person  for  your  Grace.  Methinks,  my  lord,  this 

286 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

adventure  will  tell  but  ill,  when  some  faithful  squire 
shall  recount  or  record  the  gallant  adventures  of  the 
second  Duke  of  Buckingham.' 

'Fairly  bit,  and  bantered  to  boot,'  said  the  duke;  'the 
monkey  has  a  turn  for  satire,  too,  by  all  that  is  piquante. 
Hark  ye,  fair  princess,  how  dared  you  adventure  on 
such  a  trick  as  you  have  been  accomplice  to?' 

'Dare,  my  lord!'  answered  the  stranger;  'put  the 
question  to  others,  not  to  one  who  fears  nothing.' 

'  By  my  faith,  I  believe  so ;  for  thy  front  is  bronzed  by 
nature.  Hark  ye  once  more,  mistress.  What  is  your 
name  and  condition? ' 

'  My  condition  I  have  told  you :  I  am  a  Mauritanian 
sorceress  by  profession,  and  my  name  is  Zarah,'  replied 
the  Eastern  maiden. 

'But  methinks  that  face,  shape,  and  eyes  — '  said  the 
duke.  '  When  didst  thou  pass  for  a  dancing  fairy ?  Some 
such  imp  thou  wert,  not  many  days  since.' 

'My  sister  you  may  have  seen  —  my  twin  sister;  but 
not  me,  my  lord,'  answered  Zarah. 

'Indeed,'  said  the  duke,  'that  dupHcate  of  thine,  if  it 
was  not  thy  very  self,  was  possessed  with  a  dumb  spirit 
as  thou  with  a  talking  one.  I  am  still  in  the  mind  that 
you  are  the  same ;  and  that  Satan,  always  so  powerful 
with  your  sex,  had  art  enough  on  our  former  meeting  to 
make  thee  hold  thy  tongue.' 

'Believe  what  you  will  of  it,  my  lord,'  replied  Zarah, 
'it  cannot  change  the  truth.  And  now,  my  lord,  I  bid 
you  farewell.  Have  you  any  commands  to  Mauritania? ' 

'Tarry  a  little,  my  princess,'  said  the  duke;  'and  re- 
member, that  you  have  voluntarily  entered  yourself  as 
pledge  for  another,  and  are  justly  subjected  to  any  pen- 

287 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

alty  which  it  is  my  pleasure  to  exact.  None  must  bravp 
Buckingham  with  impunity.' 

'  I  am  in  no  hurry  to  depart,  if  your  Grace  hath  any 
commands  for  me.' 

'What!  are  you  neither  afraid  of  my  resentment  nor  of 
my  love,  fair  Zarah? '  said  the  duke. 

*0f  neither,  by  this  glove,'  answered  the  lady.  'Your 
resentment  must  be  a  petty  passion  indeed,  if  it  could 
stoop  to  such  a  helpless  object  as  I  am ;  and  for  your  love 
—  good  lack !  good  lack ! ' 

'And  why  good  lack,  with  such  a  tone  of  contempt, 
lady? '  said  the  duke,  piqued  in  spite  of  himself.  '  Think 
you  Buckingham  cannot  love,  or  has  never  been  beloved 
in  return? ' 

'He  may  have  thought  himself  beloved,'  said  the 
maiden;  'but  by  what  slight  creatures!  — things  whose 
heads  could  be  rendered  giddy  by  a  playhouse  rant, 
whose  brains  were  only  filled  with  red-heeled  shoes  and 
satin  buskins,  and  who  run  altogether  mad  on  the  argu- 
ment of  a  George  and  a  star.' 

'And  are  there  no  such  frail  fair  ones  in  your  climate, 
most  scornful  princess? '  said  the  duke. 

'There  are,'  said  the  lady;  'but  men  rate  them  as  par- 
rots and  monkeys  —  things  without  either  sense  or  soul, 
head  or  heart.  The  nearness  we  bear  to  the  sun  has  pur- 
ified, while  it  strengthens,  our  passions.  The  icicles  of 
your  frozen  climate  shall  as  soon  hammer  hot  bars  into 
ploughshares  as  shall  the  foppery  and  folly  of  your  pre- 
tended gallantry  make  an  instant's  impression  on  a 
breast  like  mine.' 

'You  speak  like  one  who  knows  what  passion  is,'  said 
the  duke.  '  Sit  down,  fair  lady,  and  grieve  not  that  I  de- 

288 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tain  you.  Who  can  consent  to  part  with  a  tongue  of  so 
much  melody  or  an  eye  of  such  expressive  eloquence! 
You  have  known,  then,  what  it  is  to  love? ' 

'1  know  —  no  matter  if  by  experience  or  through  the 
report  of  others  —  but  I  do  know,  that  to  love  as  I 
would  love  would  be  to  yield  not  an  iota  to  avarice,  not 
one  inch  to  vanity,  not  to  sacrifice  the  slightest  feeling 
to  interest  or  to  ambition;  but  to  give  up  all  to  fidelity 
of  heart  and  reciprocal  affection.' 

*And  how  many  women,  think  you,  are  capable  of 
feeling  such  disinterested  passion?' 

'More,  by  thousands,  than  there  are  men  who  merit 
it,'  answered  Zarah.  'Alas!  how  often  do  you  see  the 
female,  pale,  and  wretched,  and  degraded,  still  follow- 
ing with  patient  constancy  the  footsteps  of  some  pre- 
dominating tyrant,  and  submitting  to  all  his  injustice 
with  the  endurance  of  a  faithful  and  misused  spaniel, 
which  prizes  a  look  from  his  master,  though  the  surliest 
groom  that  ever  disgraced  humanity,  more  than  all  the 
pleasure  which  the  world  besides  can  furnish  him? 
Think  what  such  would  be  to  one  who  merited  and  re- 
paid her  devotion.' 

'Perhaps  the  very  reverse,'  said  the  duke;  'and  for 
your  simile,  I  can  see  little  resemblance.  I  cannot  charge 
my  spaniel  with  any  perfidy;  but  for  my  mistresses  — 
to  confess  truth,  I  must  always  be  in  a  cursed  hurry  if  I 
would  have  the  credit  of  changing  them  before  they 
leave  me.' 

'And  they  serve  you  but  rightly,  my  lord,'  answered 
the  lady;  'for  what  are  you?  Nay,  frown  not;  for  you 
must  hear  the  truth  for  once.  Nature  has  done  its  part, 
and  made  a  fair  outside,  and  courtly  education  hath 

28  289 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

added  its  share.  You  are  noble,  it  is  the  accident 
of  birth;  handsome,  it  is  the  caprice  of  nature;  gen- 
erous, because  to  give  is  more  easy  than  to  refuse; 
well-apparelled,  it  is  to  the  credit  of  your  tailor; 
well-natured  in  the  main,  because  you  have  youth 
and  health;  brave,  because  to  be  otherwise  were  to 
be  degraded;  and  witty,  because  you  cannot  help 
it.' 

The  duke  darted  a  glance  on  one  of  the  large  mirrors. 
'Noble,  and  handsome,  and  court-like,  generous,  well- 
attired,  good-humoured,  brave,  and  witty!  You  allow 
me  more,  madam,  than  I  have  the  slightest  pretension 
to,  and  surely  enough  to  make  my  way,  at  some  point 
at  least,  to  female  favour.' 

*I  have  neither  allowed  you  a  heart  nor  a  head,'  said 
Zarah,  calmly.  'Nay,  never  redden  as  if  you  would  fly 
at  me.  I  say  not  but  nature  may  have  given  you  both; 
but  folly  has  confounded  the  one,  and  selfishness  per- 
verted the  other.  The  man  whom  I  call  deserving  the 
name  is  one  whose  thoughts  and  exertions  are  for  others 
rather  than  himself,  whose  high  purpose  is  adopted  on 
just  principles,  and  never  abandoned  while  Heaven  or 
earth  affords  means  of  accomplishing  it.  He  is  one  who 
will  neither  seek  an  indirect  advantage  by  a  specious 
road  nor  take  an  evil  path  to  gain  a  real  good  purpose. 
Such  a  man  were  one  for  whom  a  woman's  heart  should 
beat  constant  while  he  breathes,  and  break  when  he 
dies.' 

She  spoke  with  so  much  energy  that  the  water  spar- 
kled in  her  eyes,  and  her  cheek  coloured  with  the  vehe- 
mence of  her  feelings. 

'You  speak,'  said  the  duke,  'as  if  you  had  yourself  a 
290 


PEVERn.  OF  THE  PEAK 

heart  which  could  pay  the  full  tribute  to  the  merit  which 
you  describe  so  warmly.' 

'And  have  I  not?'  said  she,  laying  her  hand  on  her 
bosom.  'Here  beats  one  that  would  bear  me  out  in  what 
I  have  said,  whether  in  life  or  in  death ! ' 

'Were  it  in  my  power,'  said  the  duke,  who  began  to 
get  further  interested  in  his  visitor  than  he  could  at  first 
have  thought  possible  —  '  were  it  in  my  power  to  de- 
serve such  faithful  attachment,  methinks  it  should  be 
my  care  to  requite  it.' 

'Your  wealth,  your  titles,  your  reputation  as  a  gal- 
lant —  all  you  possess  were  too  little  to  merit  such  sin- 
cere affection.' 

'Come,  fair  lady,'  said  the  duke,  a  good  deal  piqued, 
'do  not  be  quite  so  disdainful.  Bethink  you,  that  if  your 
love  be  as  pure  as  coined  gold,  still  a  poor  fellow  like  my- 
self may  offer  you  an  equivalent  in  silver.  The  quantity 
of  my  affection  must  make  up  for  its  quality.' 

'But  I  am  not  carrying  my  affection  to  market,  my 
lord,  and  therefore  I  need  none  of  the  base  coin  you 
offer  in  change  for  it.' 

'How  do  I  know  that,  my  fairest?'  said  the  duke. 
'This  is  the  realm  of  Paphos.  You  have  invaded  it, 
with  what  purpose  you  best  know ;  but  I  think  with  none 
consistent  with  your  present  assumption  of  cruelty. 
Come  —  come,  eyes  that  are  so  intelligent  can  laugh 
with  delight  as  well  as  gleam  with  scorn  and  anger.  You 
are  here  a  waif  on  Cupid's  manor,  and  I  must  seize  on 
you  in  name  of  the  deity.' 

'Do  not  think  of  touching  me,  my  lord,'  said  the  lady. 
'Approach  me  not,  if  you  would  hope  to  learn  of  the 
purpose  of  my  being  here.    Your  Grace  may  suppose 

291 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

yourself  a  Solomon,  if  you  please;  but  I  am  no  travel- 
ling princess,  come  from  distant  climes  either  to  flatter 
your  pride  or  wonder  at  your  glory.' 

*  A  defiance,  by  Jupiter ! '  said  the  duke. 

'You  mistake  the  signal,'  said  the  'dark  ladye';  'I 
came  not  here  without  taking  suflBcient  precautions  for 
my  retreat.' 

'You  mouth  it  bravely,'  said  the  duke;  'but  never 
fortress  so  boasted  its  resources  but  the  garrison  had 
some  thoughts  of  surrender.  Thus  I  open  the  first 
parallel.' 

They  had  hitherto  been  divided  from  each  other  by 
a  long  narrow  table,  which,  placed  in  the  recess  of  the 
large  casement  we  have  mentioned,  had  formed  a  sort 
of  barrier  on  the  lady's  side  against  the  adventurous 
gallant.  The  duke  went  hastily  to  remove  it  as  he  spoke; 
but,  attentive  to  all  his  motions,  his  visitor  instantly 
darted  through  the  half-open  window. 

Buckingham  uttered  a  cry  of  horror  and  surprise, 
having  no  doubt  at  first  that  she  had  precipitated  her- 
self from  a  height  of  at  least  fourteen  feet,  for  so  far  the 
window  was  distant  from  the  ground.  But  when  he 
sprung  to  the  spot,  he  perceived,  to  his  astonishment, 
that  she  had  effected  her  descent  with  equal  agility  and 
safety. 

The  outside  of  this  stately  mansion  was  decorated 
with  a  quantity  of  carving,  in  the  mixed  state,  betwixt 
the  Gothic  and  Grecian  styles,  which  marks  the  age  of 
Elizabeth  and  her  successor;  and  though  the  feat  seemed 
a  surprising  one,  the  projections  of  these  ornaments 
were  sufficient  to  afford  footing  to  a  creature  so  light 
and  active,  even  in  her  hasty  descent. 

292 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Inflamed  alike  by  mortification  and  curiosity,  Buck- 
ingham at  fijst  entertained  some  thought  of  following 
her  by  the  same  dangerous  route,  and  had  actually  got 
upon  the  sill  of  the  window  for  that  purpose;  and  was 
contemplating  what  might  be  his  next  safe  movement, 
when,  from  a  neighbouring  thicket  of  shrubs,  amongst 
which  his  visitor  had  disappeared,  he  heard  her  chant  a 
verse  of  a  comic  song,  then  much  in  fashion,  concerning 
a  despairing  lover  who  had  recourse  to  a  precipice  — 

'But  when  he  came  near, 

Beholding  how  steep 
The  sides  did  appear, 

And  the  bottom  how  deep; 
Though  his  suit  was  rejected, 
He  sadly  reflected, 
That  a  lover  forsaken 

A  new  love  may  get; 
But  a  neck  that 's  once  broken 
Can  never  be  set.' 

The  duke  could  not  help  laughing,  though  much 
against  his  will,  at  the  resemblance  which  the  verses 
bore  to  his  own  absurd  situation,  and,  stepping  back 
into  the  apartment,  desisted  from  an  attempt  which 
might  have  proved  dangerous  as  well  as  ridiculous.  He 
called  his  attendants,  and  contented  himself  with  watch- 
ing the  little  thicket,  unwilling  to  think  that  a  female 
who  had  thrown  herself  in  a  great  measure  into  his  way 
meant  absolutely  to  mortify  him  by  a  retreat. 

That  question  was  determined  in  an  instant.  A  form, 
wrapped  in  a  mantle,  with  a  slouched  hat  and  shadowy 
plume,  issued  from  the  bushes,  and  was  lost  in  a  mo- 
ment amongst  the  ruins  of  ancient  and  of  modern  build- 
ings with  which,  as  we  have  already  stated,  the  demesne 

293 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

formerly  termed  York  House  was  now  encumbered  in 
all  directions. 

The  duke's  servants,  who  had  obeyed  his  impatient 
summons,  were  hastily  directed  to  search  for  this  tan- 
talising siren  in  every  direction.  Their  master,  in  the 
mean  time,  eager  and  vehement  in  every  pursuit,  but 
especially  when  his  vanity  was  piqued,  encouraged  their 
diligence  by  bribes,  and  threats,  and  commands.  All 
was  in  vain.  They  found  nothing  of  the  Mauritanian 
princess,  as  she  called  herself,  but  the  turban  and  the 
veil;  both  of  which  she  had  left  in  the  thicket,  together 
with  her  satin  sHppers,  which  articles,  doubtless,  she  had 
thrown  aside  as  she  exchanged  them  for  others  less  re- 
markable. 

Finding  all  his  search  in  vain,  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, after  the  example  of  spoiled  children  of  all  ages 
and  stations,  gave  a  loose  to  the  frantic  vehemence  of 
passion;  and  fiercely  he  swore  vengeance  on  his  late 
visitor,  whom  he  termed  by  a  thousand  opprobrious 
epithets,  of  which  the  elegant  phrase  'jilt'  was  most 
frequently  repeated. 

Even  Jerningham,  who  knew  the  depths  and  shal- 
lows of  his  master's  mood,  and  was  bold  to  fathom  them 
at  almost  every  state  of  his  passions,  kept  out  of  his  way 
on  the  present  occasion;  and,  cabineted  with  the  pious 
old  housekeeper,  declared  to  her,  over  a  bottle  of  ratafia, 
that,  in  his  apprehension,  if  his  Grace  did  not  learn  to 
put  some  control  on  his  temper,  chains,  darkness,  straw, 
and  Bedlam  would  be  the  final  doom  of  the  gifted  and 
admired  Duke  of  Buckingham. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Contentions  fierce, 
Ardent,  and  dire,  spring  from  no  petty  cause. 

Albion. 

The  quarrels  between  man  and  wife  are  proverbial;  but 
let  not  these  honest  folks  think  that  connexions  of  a 
less  permanent  nature  are  free  from  similar  jars.  The 
frolic  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  the  subsequent 
escape  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  had  kindled  fierce  dissen- 
sion in  Chiffinch's  family,  when,  on  his  arrival  in  town, 
he  learned  these  two  stunning  events.  *I  tell  you,'  he 
said  to  his  obliging  helpmate,  who  seemed  but  little 
moved  by  all  that  he  could  say  on  the  subject,  'that 
your  d — d  carelessness  has  ruined  the  work  of  years.' 

*I  think  it  is  the  twentieth  time  you  have  said  so,'  re- 
pHed  the  dame;  'and  without  such  frequent  assurance, 
I  was  quite  ready  to  believe  that  a  very  trifling  matter 
would  overset  any  scheme  of  yours,  however  long 
thought  of.' 

*  How  on  earth  could  you  have  the  folly  to  let  the  duke 
into  the  house  when  you  expected  the  King?'  said  the 
irritated  courtier. 

'Lord,  Chiffinch,'  answered  the  lady,  'ought  not  you 
to  ask  the  porter,  rather  than  me,  that  sort  of  question? 
I  was  putting  on  my  cap  to  receive  his  Majesty.' 

'With  the  address  of  a  madge-howlet,'  said  Chiffinch, 
'and  in  the  meanwhile  you  gave  the  cat  the  cream  to 
keep.' 

'Indeed,  Chiffinch,'  said  the  lady,  'these  jaunts  to  the 

295 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

country  do  render  you  excessively  vulgar!  There  is  a 
brutality  about  your  very  boots!  nay,  your  muslin  ruf- 
fles, being  somewhat  soiled,  give  to  your  knuckles  a  sort 
of  rural  rusticity,  as  I  may  call  it.' 

'It  were  a  good  deed,'  muttered  ChifiSnch,  'to  make 
both  boots  and  knuckles  bang  the  folly  and  affectation 
ooit  of  thee.'  Then  speaking  aloud,  he  added,  like  a  man 
who  would  fain  break  off  an  argument,  by  extorting 
from  his  adversary  a  confession  that  he  has  reason  on  his 
side, '  I  am  sure,  Kate,  you  must  be  sensible  that  our  all 
depends  on  his  Majesty's  pleasure.' 

'Leave  that  to  me,'  said  she;  'I  know  how  to  pleasure 
his  Majesty  better  than  you  can  teach  me.  Do  you 
think  his  Majesty  is  booby  enough  to  cry  like  a  school- 
boy because  his  sparrow  has  flown  away?  His  Majesty 
has  better  taste.  I  am  surprised  at  you,  Chiffinch,'  she 
added,  drawing  herself  up, '  who  were  once  thought  to 
know  the  points  of  a  fime  woman,  that  you  should  have 
made  such  a  roaring  about  this  country  wench.  Why, 
she  has  not  even  the  country  quality  of  being  plump  as 
a  barn-door  fowl,  but  is  more  like  a  Dunstable  lark,  that 
one  must  crack  bones  and  all  if  you  would  make  a  mouth- 
ful of  it.  What  signifies  whence  she  came,  or  where  she 
goes?  There  will  be  those  behind  that  are  much  more 
worthy  of  his  Majesty's  condescending  attention,  even 
when  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  takes  the  frumps.' 

'You  mean  your  neighbour,  Mistress  Nelly,'  said  her 
worthy  helpmate;  'but,  Kate,  her  date  is  out.  Wit  she 
has ;  let  her  keep  herself  warm  with  it  in  worse  company, 
for  the  cant  of  a  gang  of  strollers  is  not  language  for  a 
prince's  chamber.'^ 

*  See  Note  15. 
296 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'It  is  no  matter  what  I  mean,  or  whom  I  mean/  said 
Mrs.  ChiflSnch;  'but  I  tell  you,  Tom  Chiffinch,  that  you 
will  find  your  master  quite  consoled  for  loss  of  the  piece 
of  prudish  Puritanism  that  you  would  needs  saddle  him 
with;  as  if  the  good  man  were  not  plagued  enough  with 
them  in  Parliament,  but  you  must,  forsooth,  bring  them 
into  his  very  bedchamber.' 

'Well,  Kate,'  said  Chiffinch,  'if  a  man  were  to  speak 
all  the  sense  of  the  seven  wise  masters,  a  woman  would 
find  nonsense  enough  to  overwhelm  him  with;  so  I  shall 
say  no  more,  but  that  I  would  to  Heaven  I  may  find  the 
King  in  no  worse  humour  than  you  describe  him.  I  am 
commanded  to  attend  him  down  the  river  to  the  Tower 
to-day,  where  he  is  to  make  some  survey  of  arms  and 
stores.  They  are  clever  fellows  who  contrive  to  keep 
Rowley  from  engaging  in  business,  for,  by  my  word,  he 
has  a  turn  for  it.' 

*I  warrant  you,'  said  Chiffinch  the  female,  nodding, 
but  rather  to  her  own  figure  reflected  from  a  mirror  than 
to  her  politic  husband ^ —  'I  warrant  you  we  will  find 
means  of  occupying  him  that  will  sufficiently  fill  up  his 
time.' 

'On  my  honour,  Kate,'  said  the  male  Chiffinch,  'I  find 
you  strangely  altered,  and,  to  speak  truth,  grown  most 
extremely  opinionative.  I  shall  be  happy  if  you  have 
good  reason  for  your  confidence.' 

The  dame  smiled  superciliously,  but  deigned  no  other 
answer,  unless  this  were  one —  'I  shall  order  a  boat  to 
go  upon  the  Thames  to-day  with  the  royal  party.' 

'Take  care  what  you  do,  Kate;  there  are  none  dare 
presume  so  far  but  women  of  the  first  rank.  Duchess  of 
Bolton,  of  Buckingham,  of — ' 

297 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Who  cares  for  a  list  of  names?  Why  may  not  I  be  as 
forward  as  the  greatest  B.  amongst  your  string  of  them? ' 

'Nay,  faith,  thou  mayst  match  the  greatest  B.  in 
court  already,'  answered  Chiffinch;  'so  e'en  take  thy  own 
course  of  it.  But  do  not  let  Chaubert  forget  to  get  some 
collation  ready,  and  a  souper  au  petit  convert,  in  case  it 
should  be  commanded  for  the  evening.' 

'Ay,  there  your  boasted  knowledge  of  court  matters 
begins  and  ends.  Chiffinch,  Chaubert,  &  Company;  dis- 
solve that  partnership,  and  you  break  Tom  Chiffinch  for 
a  courtier.' 

'Amen,  Kate,'  replied  Chiffinch;  'and  let  me  tell  you, 
it  is  as  safe  to  rely  on  another  person's  fingers  as  on  our 
own  wit.  But  I  must  give  orders  for  the  water.  If  you 
will  take  the  pinnace,  there  are  the  cloth-of-gold  cush- 
ions in  the  chapel  may  serve  to  cover  the  benches  for  the 
day.  They  are  never  wanted  where  they  lie,  so  you  may 
make  free  with  them  too.' 

Madam  Chiffinch  accordingly  mingled  with  the  flo- 
tilla which  attended  the  King  on  his  voyage  down  the 
Thames,  amongst  whom  was  the  Queen,  attended  by 
some  of  the  principal  ladies  of  the  court.  The  little 
plump  Cleopatra,  dressed  to  as  much  advantage  as  her 
taste  could  devise,  and  seated  upon  her  embroidered 
cushions  like  Venus  in  her  shell,  neglected  nothing  that 
effrontery  and  minauderie  could  perform  to  draw  upon 
herself  some  portion  of  the  King's  observation;  but 
Charles  was  not  in  the  vein,  and  did  not  even  pay  her 
the  slightest  passing  attention  of  any  kind,  until  her 
boatmen,  having  ventured  to  approach  nearer  to  the 
Queen's  barge  than  etiquette  permitted,  received  a 
peremptory  order  to  back  their  oars  and  fall  out  of  the 

298 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

royal  procession.  Madam  Chifl&nch  cried  for  spite,  and 
transgressed  Solomon's  warning  by  cursing  the  King 
in  her  heart;  but  had  no  better  course  than  to  return 
to  Westminster  and  direct  Chaubert's  preparations  for 
the  evening. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  royal  barge  paused  at  the  Tower; 
and,  accompanied  by  a  laughing  train  of  ladies  and  of 
courtiers,  the  gay  monarch  made  the  echoes  of  the  old 
prison-towers  ring  with  the  unwonted  sounds  of  mirth 
and  revelry.  As  they  ascended  from  the  river-side  to  the 
centre  of  the  building,  where  the  fine  old  keep  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  called  the  White  Tower,  predominates 
over  the  exterior  defences,  Heaven  only  knows  how  many 
gallant  jests,  good  or  bad,  were  run  on  the  comparison  of 
his  Majesty's  state-prison  to  that  of  Cupid,  and  what 
killing  similes  were  drawn  between  the  ladies'  eyes  and 
the  guns  of  the  fortress,  which,  spoken  with  a  fashion- 
able congee,  and  listened  to  with  a  smile  from  a  fair  lady, 
formed  the  fine  conversation  of  the  day. 

This  gay  swarm  of  flutterers  did  not,  however,  attend 
close  on  the  King's  person,  though  they  had  accompan- 
ied him  upon  his  party  on  the  river.  Charles,  who  often 
formed  manly  and  sensible  resolutions,  though  he  was  too 
easily  diverted  from  them  by  indolence  or  pleasure,  had 
some  desire  to  make  himself  personally  acquainted  with 
the  state  of  the  military  stores,  arms,  etc.,  of  which  the 
Tower  was  then,  as  now,  the  magazine;  and,  although  he 
had  brought  with  him  the  usual  number  of  his  courtiers, 
only  three  or  four  attended  him  on  the  scrutiny  which  he 
intended.  Whilst,  therefore,  the  rest  of  the  train  amused 
themselves  as  they  might  in  other  parts  of  the  Tower, 
the  King,  accompanied  by  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham, 

299 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Ormond,  and  one  or  two  others,  walked  through  the 
well-known  hall,  in  which  is  preserved  the  most  splendid 
magazine  of  arms  in  the  world,  and  which,  though  far 
from  exhibiting  its  present  extraordinary  state  of  per- 
fection, was  even  then  an  arsenal  worthy  of  the  great 
nation  to  which  it  belonged. 

The  Duke  of  Ormond,  well  known  for  his  services 
during  the  Great  Civil  War,  was,  as  we  have  elsewhere 
noticed,  at  present  rather  on  cold  terms  with  his  sov- 
ereign, who  nevertheless  asked  his  advice  on  many  occa- 
sions, and  who  required  it  on  the  present  amongst  others, 
when  it  was  not  a  little  feared  that  the  Parliament,  in 
their  zeal  for  the  Protestant  religion,  might  desire  to 
take  the  magazines  of  arms  and  ammunition  under  their 
own  exclusive  orders.  While  Charles  sadly  hinted  at 
such  a  termination  of  the  popular  jealousies  of  the 
period,  and  discussed  with  Ormond  the  means  of  resist- 
ing or  evading  it,  Buckingham,  falling  a  little  behind, 
amused  himself  with  ridiculing  the  antiquated  appear- 
ance and  embarrassed  demeanour  of  the  old  warder  who 
attended  on  the  occasion,  and  who  chanced  to  be  the 
very  same  that  escorted  Julian  Peveril  to  his  present 
place  of  confinement.  The  duke  prosecuted  his  raillery 
with  the  greater  activity,  that  he  found  the  old  man, 
though  restrained  by  the  place  and  presence,  was  rather 
upon  the  whole  testy,  and  disposed  to  afford  what  sports- 
men call  play  to  his  persecutor.  The  various  pieces  of 
ancient  armour  with  which  the  wall  was  covered  afforded 
the  principal  source  of  the  duke's  wit,  as  he  insisted  upon 
knowing  from  the  old  man,  who,  he  said,  could  best  re- 
member matters  from  the  days  of  King  Arthur  down- 
wards at  the  least,  the  history  of  the  different  warlike 

300 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

weapons,  and  anecdotes  of  the  battles  in  which  they 
had  been  wielded.  The  old  man  obviously  suffered  when 
he  was  obliged,  by  repeated  questions,  to  tell  the  legends 
(often  sufficiently  absurd)  which  the  tradition  of  the 
place  had  assigned  to  particular  relics.  Far  from  flour- 
ishing his  partizan  and  augmenting  the  emphasis  of  his 
voice,  as  was  and  is  the  prevailing  fashion  of  these  war- 
like ciceroni,  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  extort  from  him  a 
single  word  concerning  those  topices  on  which  their  in- 
formation is  usually  overflowing. 

'Do  you  know,  my  friend,'  said  the  duke  to  him  at 
last, '  I  begin  to  change  my  mind  respecting  you?  I  sup- 
posed you  must  have  served  as  a  Yeoman  of  the  Guard 
since  bluff  King  Henry's  time,  and  expected  to  hear 
something  from  you  about  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of 
Gold,  and  I  thought  of  asking  you  the  colour  of  Anne 
Bullen's  breast-knot,  which  cost  the  Pope  three  king- 
doms; but  I  am  afraid  you  are  but  a  novice  in  such  recol- 
lections of  love  and  chivalry.  Art  sure  thou  didst  not 
creep  into  thy  warlike  office  from  some  dark  shop  in 
the  Tower-Hamlets,  and  that  thou  hast  not  converted 
an  unlawful  measuring-yard  into  that  glorious  halberd? 
I  warrant,  thou  canst  not  even  tell  one  whom  this  piece 
of  antique  panoply  pertained  to?' 

The  duke  pointed  at  random  to  a  cuirass  which  hung 
amongst  others,  but  was  rather  remarkable  from  being 
better  cleaned. 

'I  should  know  that  piece  of  iron,'  said  the  warder, 
bluntly,  yet  with  some  change  in  his  voice ;  *  for  I  have 
known  a  man  withinside  of  it  who  would  not  have  en- 
dured half  of  the  impertinence  I  have  heard  spoken  to- 
day.' 

301 

SMTI   .       •  ,  IJJi 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

The  tone  of  the  old  man,  as  well  as  the  words,  attracted 
the  attention  of  Charles  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  who 
were  only  two  steps  before  the  speaker.  They  both 
stopped  and  turned  round ;  the  former  saying  at  the  same 
time,  'How  now,  sirrah!  what  answers  are  these?  What 
man  do  you  speak  of? ' 

'Of  one  who  is  none  now,'  said  the  warder,  'whatever 
he  may  have  been.' 

'The  old  man  surely  speaks  of  himself,'  said  the  Duke 
of  Ormond,  closely  examining  the  countenance  of  the 
warder,  which  he  in  vain  endeavoured  to  turn  away.  'I 
am  sure  I  remember  these  features.  Are  not  you  my  old 
friend,  Major  Coleby?' 

'I  wish  your  Grace's  memory  had  been  less  accurate,' 
said  the  old  man,  colouring  deeply  and  fixing  his  eyes  on 
the  ground. 

The  King  was  greatly  shocked.  '  Good  God,'  he  said, 
'  the  gallant  Major  Coleby,  who  joined  us  with  his  four 
sons  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  men  at  Warrington !  And 
is  this  all  we  could  do  for  an  old  Worcester  friend?' 

The  tears  rushed  thick  into  the  old  man's  eyes  as  he 
said,  in  broken  accents,  'Never  mind  me,  sire;  I  am  well 
enough  here  —  a  worn-out  soldier  rusting  among  old 
armour.  Where  one  old  Cavalier  is  better,  there  are 
twenty  worse.  I  am  sorry  your  Majesty  should  know 
anything  of  it,  since  it  grieves  you.' 

With  that  kindness  which  was  a  redeeming  point  of 
his  character,  Charles,  while  the  old  man  was  speaking, 
took  the  partizan  from  him  with  his  own  hand,  and  put 
it  into  that  of  Buckingham,  saying,  'What  Coleby's 
hand  has  borne,  can  disgrace  neither  yours  nor  mine,  and 
you  owe  him  this  atonement.    Time  has  been  with  him 

302 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

that,  for  less  provocation,  he  would  have  laid  it  about 
your  ears.' 

The  duke  bowed  deeply,  but  coloured  with  resent- 
ment, and  took  an  immediate  opportunity  to  place  the 
weapon  carelessly  against  a  pile  of  arms.  The  King  did 
not  observe  a  contemptuous  motion,  which,  perhaps, 
would  not  have  pleased  him,  being  at  the  moment  occu- 
pied with  the  veteran,  whom  he  exhorted  to  lean  upon 
him,  as  he  conveyed  him  to  a  seat,  permitting  no  other 
person  to  assist  him.  'Rest  there,'  he  said,  'my  brave 
old  friend;  and  Charles  Stuart  must  be  poor  indeed  if 
you  wear  that  dress  an  hour  longer.  You  look  very  pale, 
my  good  Coleby,  to  have  had  so  much  colour  a  few  min- 
utes since.  Be  not  vexed  at  what  Buckingham  says; 
no  one  minds  his  folly.  You  look  worse  and  worse. 
Come  —  come,  you  are  too  much  hurried  by  this  meet- 
ing. Sit  still  —  do  not  rise  —  do  not  attempt  to  kneel.  I 
command  you  to  repose  yourself  till  I  have  made  the 
round  of  these  apartments.' 

The  old  Cavalier  stooped  his  head  in  token  of  acqui- 
escence in  the  command  of  his  sovereign,  but  he  raised 
it  not  again.  The  tumultuous  agitation  of  the  moment 
had  been  too  much  for  spirits  which  had  been  long  in  a 
state  of  depression,  and  health  which  was  much  decayed. 
When  the  King  and  his  attendants,  after  half  an  hour's 
absence,  returned  to  the  spot  where  they  had  left  the 
veteran,  they  found  him  dead,  and  already  cold,  in  the 
attitude  of  one  who  has  fallen  easily  asleep.  The  King 
was  dreadfully  shocked;  and  it  was  with  a  low  and  falter- 
ing voice  that  he  directed  the  body,  in  due  time,  to  be 
honourably  buried  in  the  chapel  of  the  Tower.  ^  He  was 

'  A  story  of  this  nature  is  current  in  the  legends  of  the  Tower.  Th3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

then  silent,  until  he  attained  the  steps  in  front  of  the 
arsenal,  where  the  party  in  attendance  upon  his  person 
began  to  assemble  at  his  approach,  along  with  some 
other  persons  of  respectable  appearance,  whom  curiosity 
had  attracted. 

*  This  is  dreadful,'  said  the  King.  'We  must  find  some 
means  of  reUeving  the  distresses  and  rewarding  the  fidel- 
ity of  our  suffering  followers,  or  posterity  will  cry  fie 
upon  our  memory.' 

'Your  Majesty  has  had  often  such  plans  agitated  in 
your  council,'  said  Buckingham. 

'True,  George,'  said  the  King.  'I  can  safely  say  it  is 
not  my  fault.  I  have  thought  of  it  for  years.' 

'  It  cannot  be  too  well  considered,'  said  Buckingham; 
'besides,  every  year  makes  the  task  of  relief  easier.' 

'True,'  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  'by  diminishing  the 
number  of  sufferers.  Here  is  poor  old  Coleby  will  no 
longer  be  a  burden  to  the  crown.' 

'You  are  too  severe,  my  Lord  of  Ormond,'  said  the 
King,  '  and  should  respect  the  feelings  you  trespass  on. 
You  cannot  suppose  that  we  would  have  permitted  this 
poor  man  to  hold  such  a  situation  had  we  known  of  the 
circumstance? ' 

'For  God's  sake,  then,  sire,'  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond, 
'turn  your  eyes,  which  have  just  rested  on  the  corpse  of 
one  old  friend,  upon  the  distresses  of  others.  Here  is  the 
valiant  old  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  who  fought 
through  the  whole  war,  wherever  blows  were  going,  and 
was  the  last  man,  I  believe,  in  England  who  laid  down 
his  arms ;  here  is  his  son,  of  whom  I  have  the  highest  ac- 

affecting  circumstances  are,  I  believe,  recorded  in  one  of  the  little  man- 
uals which  are  put  into  the  hands  of  visitors,  but  are  not  to  be  found 
in  the  later  editions. 

304 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

counts,  as  a  gallant  of  spirit,  accomplishments,  and 
courage;  here  is  the  unfortunate  house  of  Derby  —  for 
pity's  sake,  interfere  in  behalf  of  these  victims,  whom 
the  folds  of  this  hydra-plot  have  entangled,  in  order  to 
crush  them  to  death ;  rebuke  the  fiends  that  are  seeking 
to  devour  their  lives,  and  disappoint  the  harpies  that  are 
gaping  for  their  property.  This  very  day  seven-night 
the  unfortunate  family,  father  and  son,  are  to  be  brought 
upon  trial  for  crimes  of  which  they  are  as  guiltless,  I 
boldly  pronounce,  as  any  who  stand  in  this  presence. 
For  God's  sake,  sire,  let  us  hope  that,  should  the  pre- 
judices of  the  people  condemn  them ,  as  it  has  done  others, 
you  will  at  last  step  between  the  blood-hunters  and 
their  prey.' 

The  King  looked,  as  he  really  was,  exceedingly  per- 
plexed. 

Buckingham,  between  whom  and  Ormond  there  ex- 
isted a  constant  and  almost  mortal  quarrel,  interfered  to 
efifect  a  diversion  in  Charles's  favour.  'Your  Majesty's 
royal  benevolence,'  he  said,  'needs  never  want  exercise, 
while  the  Duke  of  Ormond  is  near  your  person.  He  has 
his  sleeve  cut  in  the  old  and  ample  fashion,  that  he  may 
always  have  store  of  ruined  Cavaliers  stowed  in  it  to 
produce  at  demand,  rare  old  raw-boned  boys,  with  Malm- 
sey noses,  bald  heads,  spindle  shanks,  and  merciless  his- 
tories of  Edgehill  and  Naseby.' 

'  My  sleeve  is,  I  daresay,  of  an  antique  cut,'  said  Or- 
mond, looking  full  at  the  duke ; '  but  I  pin  neither  bravoes 
nor  ruffians  upon  it,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham,  as  I  see 
fastened  to  coats  of  the  new  mode.' 

'That  is  a  little  too  sharp  for  our  presence,  my  lord/ 
said  the  King. 

28  305 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Not  if  I  make  my  words  good,'  said  Ormond.  *  My 
Lord  of  Buckingham,  will  you  name  the  man  you  spoke 
to  as  you  left  the  boat? ' 

*I  spoke  to  no  one,' said  the  duke,  hastily;  'nay,  I 
mistake,  I  remember  a  fellow  whispered  in  my  ear  that 
one  who  I  thought  had  left  London  was  still  lingering 
in  town.  A  person  whom  I  had  business  with.' 

'Was  yon  the  messenger?'  said  Ormond,  singling  out 
from  the  crowd  who  stood  in  the  courtyard  a  tall,  dark- 
looking  man,  mufHed  in  a  large  cloak,  wearing  a  broad 
shadowy  black  beaver  hat,  with  a  long  sword  of  the 
Spanish  fashion;  the  very  colonel,  in  short,  whom  Buck- 
ingham had  despatched  in  quest  of  Christian,  with  the 
intention  of  detaining  him  in  the  country. 

When  Buckingham's  eyes  had  followed  the  direction 
of  Ormond's  finger,  he  could  not  help  blushing  so  deeply 
as  to  attract  the  King's  attention.-^ 

'  What  new  froHc  is  this,  George? '  he  said.  '  Gentle- 
men, bring  that  fellow  forward.  On  my  life,  a  truculent- 
looking  caitiff.  Hark  ye,  friend,  who  are  you?  If  an 
honest  man,  nature  has  forgot  to  label  it  upon  your  coun- 
tenance. Does  none  here  know  him? 

With  every  symptom  of  a  knave  complete, 
If  he  be  honest,  he's  a  devilish  cheat.' 

*  He  is  well  known  to  many,  sire,'  replied  Ormond ; '  and 
that  he  walks  in  this  area  with  his  neck  safe  and  his 
limbs  unshackled  is  an  instance,  amongst  many,  that 
we  live  under  the  sway  of  the  most  merciful  prince  of 
Europe.' 

'Odds-fish!  who  is  the  man,  my  lord  duke?'  said  the 

1  See  Note  i6. 
306 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

King.  'Your  Grace  talks  mysteries,  Buckingham  blushes, 
and  the  rogue  himself  is  dumb.' 

'That  honest  gentleman,  please  your  Majesty,'  re- 
plied the  Duke  of  Ormond,  'whose  modesty  makes  him 
mute,  though  it  cannot  make  him  blush,  is  the  notorious 
Colonel  Blood,  as  he  calls  himself,  whose  attempt  to 
possess  himself  of  your  Majesty's  royal  crown  took 
place  at  no  very  distant  date  in  this  very  Tower  of 
London.' 

'That  exploit  is  not  easily  forgotten,'  said  the  King; 
*  but  that  the  fellow  lives  shows  your  Grace's  clemency 
as  well  as  mine.' 

'I  cannot  deny  that  I  was  in  his  hands,  sire,'  said  Or- 
mond, '  and  had  certainly  been  murdered  by  him,  had  he 
chosen  to  take  my  life  on  the  spot,  instead  of  destining 
me  —  I  thank  him  for  the  honour  —  to  be  hanged  at 
Tyburn.  I  had  certainly  been  sped,  if  he  had  thought 
me  worth  knife  or  pistol,  or  anything  short  of  the  cord. 
Look  at  him,  sire!  If  the  rascal  dared,  he  would  say  at 
this  moment,  like  Caliban  in  the  play,  "Ho  —  ho,  I 
would  I  had  done  it! " ' 

'Why,  odds-fish!'  answered  the  King,  'he  hath  a  vil- 
lainous sneer,  my  lord,  which  seems  to  say  as  much;  but, 
my  lord  duke,  we  have  pardoned  him,  and  so  has  your 
Grace.' 

'It  would  ill  have  become  me,'  said  the  Duke  of  Or- 
mond, 'to  have  been  severe  in  prosecuting  an  attempt 
on  my  poor  life,  when  your  Majesty  was  pleased  to  re- 
mit his  more  outrageous  and  insolent  attempt  upon  your 
royal  crown.  But  I  must  conceive  it  as  a  piece  of  su- 
preme insolence  on  the  part  of  this  bloodthirsty  bully, 
by  whomsoever  he  may  be  now  backed,  to  appear  in  the 

307 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Tower,  which  was  the  theatre  of  one  of  his  villainies,  or 
before  me,  who  was  wellnigh  the  victim  of  another.' 

'It  shall  be  amended  in  future,'  said  the  King.  'Hark 
ye,  sirrah  Blood,  if  you  again  presume  to  thrust  yourself 
in  the  way  you  have  done  but  now,  I  will  have  the  hang- 
man's knife  and  your  knavish  ears  made  acquainted.' 

Blood  bowed,  and,  with  a  coolness  of  impudence  which 
did  his  nerves  great  honour,  he  said  he  had  only  come  to 
the  Tower  accidentally,  to  communicate  with  a  particu- 
lar friend  on  business  of  importance.  '  My  Lord  Duke  of 
Buckingham,'  he  said, '  knew  he  had  no  other  intentions.' 

'  Get  you  gone,  you  scoundrelly  cut-throat,'  said  the 
duke,  as  much  impatient  of  Colonel  Blood's  claim  of 
acquaintance  as  a  town-rake  of  the  low  and  blackguard 
companions  of  his  midnight  rambles,  when  they  accost 
him  in  daylight  amidst  better  company;  'if  you  dare  to 
quote  my  name  again,  I  will  have  you  thrown  into  the 
Thames.' 

Blood,  thus  repulsed,  turned  round  with  the  most  in- 
solent composure  and  walked  away  down  from  the  par- 
ade, all  men  looking  at  him,  as  at  some  strange  and  mon- 
strous prodigy,  so  much  was  he  renowned  for  daring  and 
desperate  villainy.  Some  even  followed  him,  to  have  a 
better  survey  of  the  notorious  Colonel  Blood,  like  the 
smaller  tribe  of  birds  which  keep  fluttering  round  an  owl 
when  he  appears  in  the  light  of  the  sun.  But  as,  in  the 
latter  case,  these  thoughtless  flutterers  are  careful  to 
keep  out  of  reach  of  the  beak  and  claws  of  the  bird  of 
Minerva,  so  none  of  those  who  followed  and  gazed  on 
Blood  as  something  ominous  cared  to  bandy  looks  with 
him,  or  to  endure  and  return  the  lowering  and  deadly 
glances  which  he  shot  from  time  to  time  on  those  who 

308 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

pressed  nearest  to  him.  He  stalked  on  in  this  manner, 
like  a  daunted  yet  sullen  woK,  afraid  to  stop,  yet  unwill- 
ing to  fly,  until  he  reached  the  Traitor's  Gate,  and  get- 
ting on  board  a  sculler  which  waited  for  him,  he  disap- 
peared from  their  eyes. 

Charles  would  fain  have  obliterated  all  recollection 
of  his  appearance  by  the  observation,  'It  were  shame 
that  such  a  reprobate  scoundrel  should  be  the  subject  of 
discord  between  two  noblemen  of  distinction ' ;  and  he 
recommended  to  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham  and  Ormond 
to  join  hands,  and  forget  a  misunderstanding  which  rose 
on  so  unworthy  a  subject. 

Buckingham  answered  carelessly,  'That  the  Duke  of 
Ormond's  honoured  white  hairs  were  a  sufficient  apology 
for  his  making  the  first  overtures  to  a  reconciliation,'  and 
he  held  out  his  hand  accordingly. 

But  Ormond  only  bowed  in  return,  and  said,  'The 
King  had  no  cause  to  expect  that  the  court  would  be  dis- 
turbed by  his  personal  resentments,  since  time  would 
not  yield  him  back  twenty  years,  nor  the  grave  restore 
his  gallant  son  Ossory.  As  to  the  ruffian  who  had  in- 
truded himself  there,  he  was  obHged  to  him,  since,  by 
showing  that  his  Majesty's  clemency  extended  even  to 
the  very  worst  of  criminals,  he  strengthened  his  hopes  of 
obtaining  the  King's  favour  for  such  of  his  innocent 
friends  as  were  now  in  prison,  and  in  danger,  from  the 
odious  charges  brought  against  them  on  the  score  of  the 
Popish  Plot.' 

The  King  made  no  other  answer  to  this  insinuation 
than  by  directing  that  the  company  should  embark  for 
their  return  to  Whitehall ;  and  thus  took  leave  of  the  of- 
ficers of  the  Tower  who  were  in  attendance  with  one  of 

309 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

those  well-turned  compliments  to  their  discharge  of  duty 
which  no  man  knew  better  how  to  express;  and  issued  at 
the  same  time  strict  and  anxious  orders  for  protection 
and  defence  of  the  important  fortress  confided  to  them, 
and  all  which  it  contained. 

Before  he  parted  with  Ormond  on  their  arrival  at 
Whitehall,  he  turned  round  to  him,  as  one  who  has  made 
up  his  resolution,  and  said,  *  Be  satisfied,  my  lord  duke, 
our  friends'  case  shall  be  looked  to.' 

In  the  same  evening  the  Attorney-General,  and  North, 
Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  had  orders, 
with  all  secrecy,  to  meet  his  Majesty  that  evening  on 
especial  matters  of  state  at  the  apartments  of  Chifl&nch, 
the  centre  of  all  affairs,  whether  of  gallantry  or  business. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

Yet,  Corah,  thou  shalt  from  oblivion  pass; 
Erect  thyself,  thou  monumental  brass, 
High  as  the  serpent  of  thy  metal  made. 
While  nations  stand  secure  beneath  thy  shade  I 

Absalom  and  Achitophel. 

The  morning  which  Charles  had  spent  in  visiting  the 
Tower  had  been  very  differently  employed  by  those  un- 
happy individuals  whom  their  bad  fate,  and  the  singular 
temper  of  the  times,  had  made  the  innocent  tenants  of 
that  state  prison,  and  who  had  received  official  notice 
that  they  were  to  stand  their  trial  in  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench  at  Westminster  on  the  seventh  succeeding  day. 
The  stout  old  Cavalier  at  first  only  railed  at  the  officer 
for  spoiling  his  breakfast  with  the  news,  but  evinced 
great  f  eeHng  when  he  was  told  that  Julian  was  to  be  put 
under  the  same  indictment. 

We  intend  to  dwell  only  very  generally  on  the  nature 
of  their  trial,  which  corresponded,  in  the  outline,  with 
almost  all  those  that  took  place  during  the  prevalence  of 
the  Popish  Plot.  That  is,  one  or  two  infamous  and  per- 
jured evidences,  whose  profession  of  common  informers 
had  become  frightfully  lucrative,  made  oath  to  the  pris- 
oners' having  expressed  themselves  interested  in  the 
great  confederacy  of  the  Catholics.  A  number  of  others 
brought  forward  facts  or  suspicions,  affecting  the  char- 
acter of  the  parties  as  honest  Protestants  and  good  sub- 
jects; and  betwixt  the  direct  and  presumptive  evidence 
enough  was  usually  extracted  for  justifying,  to  a  cor- 

3" 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

rupted  court  and  a  perjured  Jury,  the  fatal  verdict  of 
'Guilty.' 

The  fury  of  the  people  had,  however,  now  begun  to 
pass  away,  exhausted  even  by  its  own  violence.  The 
English  nation  differ  from  all  others,  indeed  even  from 
those  of  the  sister  kingdoms,  in  being  very  easily  sated 
with  punishment,  even  when  they  suppose  it  most 
merited.  Other  nations  are  Uke  the  tamed  tiger,  which, 
when  once  its  native  appetite  for  slaughter  is  indulged 
in  one  instance,  rushes  on  in  promiscuous  ravages.  But 
the  English  public  have  always  rather  resembled  what  is 
told  of  the  sleuth-dog,  which,  eager,  fierce,  and  clamor- 
ous in  pursuit  of  his  prey,  desists  from  it  so  soon  as  blood 
is  sprinkled  upon  his  path. 

Men's  minds  were  now  beginning  to  cool;  the  charac- 
ter of  the  witnesses  was  more  closely  sifted,  their  testi- 
monies did  not  in  all  cases  tally,  and  a  wholesome  suspi- 
cion began  to  be  entertained  of  men  who  would  never 
say  they  had  made  a  full  discovery  of  all  they  knew,  but 
avowedly  reserved  some  point  of  evidence  to  bear  on 
future  trials. 

The  King  also,  who  had  lain  passive  during  the  first 
burst  of  popular  fury,  was  now  beginning  to  bestir  him- 
self, which  produced  a  marked  effect  on  the  conduct  of 
the  crown  counsel,  and  even  the  judges.  Sir  George 
Wakeman  had  been  acquitted  in  spite  of  Oates's  direct 
testimony;  and  public  attention  was  strongly  excited 
concerning  the  event  of  the  next  trial,  which  chanced  to 
be  that  of  the  Peverils,  father  and  son,  with  whom,  I 
know  not  from  what  concatenation,  little  Hudson  the 
dwarf  was  placed  at  the  bar  of  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench. 

312 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

It  was  a  piteous  sight  to  behold  a  father  and  son,  who 
had  been  so  long  separated,  meet  under  circumstances  so 
melancholy ;  and  many  tears  were  shed  when  the  majes- 
tic old  man  —  for  such  he  was,  though  now  broken  with 
years  —  folded  his  son  to  his  bosom,  with  a  mixture  of 
joy,  affection,  and  a  bitter  anticipation  of  the  event  of 
the  impending  trial.  There  was  a  feeling  in  the  court 
that  for  a  moment  overcame  every  prejudice  and  party 
feeling.  Many  spectators  shed  tears;  and  there  was  even 
a  low  moaning,  as  of  those  who  weep  aloud. 

Such  as  felt  themselves  sufficiently  at  ease  to  remark 
the  conduct  of  poor  little  Geoffrey  Hudson,  who  was 
scarcely  observed  amid  the  preponderating  interest 
created  by  his  companions  in  misfortune,  could  not  but 
notice  a  strong  degree  of  mortification  on  the  part  of  that 
diminutive  gentleman.  He  had  soothed  his  great  mind 
by  the  thoughts  of  playing  the  character  which  he  was 
called  on  to  sustain  in  a  manner  which  should  be  long 
remembered  in  that  place;  and  on  his  entrance  had  sa- 
luted the  numerous  spectators,  as  well  as  the  court,  with 
a  cavalier  air,  which  he  meant  should  express  grace, 
high-breeding,  perfect  coolness,  with  a  noble  disregard 
to  the  issue  of  their  proceedings.  But  his  little  person 
was  so  obscured  and  jostled  aside,  on  the  meeting  of  the 
father  and  son,  who  had  been  brought  in  different  boats 
from  the  Tower  and  placed  at  the  bar  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, that  his  distress  and  his  dignity  were  alike  thrown 
into  the  background,  and  attracted  neither  sympathy 
nor  admiration. 

The  dwarf's  wisest  way  to  attract  attention  would 
have  been  to  remain  quiet,  when  so  remarkable  an  ex- 
terior would  certainly  have  received  in  its  turn  the  share 

313 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

of  public  notice  which  he  so  eagerly  coveted.  But  when 
did  personal  vanity  listen  to  the  suggestions  of  prudence? 
Our  impatient  friend  scrambled,  with  some  difficulty,  on 
the  top  of  the  bench  intended  for  his  seat;  and  there, 
'paining  himself  to  stand  a- tiptoe,'  like  Chaucer's  gal- 
lant Sir  Chaunticlere,  he  challenged  the  notice  of  the 
audience  as  he  stood  bowing  and  claiming  acquaintance 
of  his  namesake  Sir  Geoffrey  the  larger,  with  whose 
shoulders,  notwithstanding  his  elevated  situation,  he 
was  scarcely  yet  upon  a  level. 

The  taller  knight,  whose  mind  was  occupied  in  a  very 
different  manner,  took  no  notice  of  these  advances  upon 
the  dwarf's  part,  but  sat  down  with  the  determination 
rather  to  die  on  the  spot  than  evince  any  symptoms  of 
weakness  before  Roundheads  and  Presbyterians,  under 
which  obnoxious  epithets,  being  too  old-fashioned  to 
find  out  party  designations  of  a  newer  date,  he 
comprehended  all  persons  concerned  in  his  present 
trouble. 

By  Sir  Geoffrey  the  larger's  change  of  position,  his 
face  was  thus  brought  on  a  level  with  that  of  Sir  Geoffrey 
the  less,  who  had  an  opportunity  of  pulling  him  by  the 
cloak.  He  of  Martindale  Castle,  rather  mechanically 
than  consciously,  turned  his  head  towards  the  large 
wrinkled  visage,  which,  struggling  between  an  assumed 
air  of  easy  importance  and  an  anxious  desire  to  be 
noticed,  was  grimacing  within  a  yard  of  him.  But 
neither  the  singular  physiognomy,  the  nods  and  smiles 
of  greeting  and  recognition  into  which  it  was  wreathed, 
nor  the  strange  little  form  by  which  it  was  supported, 
had  at  that  moment  the  power  of  exciting  any  recollec- 
tions in  the  old  knight's  mind;  and  having  stared  for  a 

314 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

moment  at  the  poor  little  man,  his  bulky  namesake 
turned  away  his  head  without  further  notice. 

Julian  Peveril,  the  dwarf's  more  recent  acquaintance, 
had,  even  amid  his  own  anxious  feelings,  room  for  sym- 
pathy with  those  of  his  little  fellow-sufferer.  As  soon  as 
he  discovered  that  he  was  at  the  same  terrible  bar  with 
himself,  although  he  could  not  conceive  how  their 
causes  came  to  be  conjoined,  he  acknowledged  him  by 
a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand,  which  the  old  man  re- 
turned with  affected  dignity  and  real  gratitude.  '  Wor- 
thy youth,'  he  said, '  thy  presence  is  restorative,  like  the 
nepenthe  of  Homer,  even  in  this  syncope  of  our  mutual 
fate.  I  am  concerned  to  see  that  your  father  hath  not 
the  same  alacrity  of  soul  as  that  of  ours,  which  are 
lodged  within  smaller  compass;  and  that  he  hath  for- 
gotten an  ancient  comrade  and  fellow-soldier,  who  now 
stands  beside  him  to  perform,  perhaps,  their  last  cam- 
paign.' 

Julian  briefly  replied  that  his  father  had  much  to 
occupy  him.  But  the  little  man  —  who,  to  do  him  jus- 
tice, cared  no  more  (in  his  own  phrase)  for  imminent 
danger  or  death  than  he  did  for  the  puncture  of  a  flea's 
proboscis  —  did  not  so  easily  renounce  the  secret  object 
of  his  ambition,  which  was  to  acquire  the  notice  of  the 
large  and  lofty  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  who,  being  at  least 
three  inches  taller  than  his  son,  was  in  so  far  possessed 
of  that  superior  excellence  which  the  poor  dwarf,  in  his 
secret  soul,  valued  before  all  other  distinctions,  although, 
in  his  conversation,  he  was  constantly  depreciating  it. 
*  Good  comrade  and  namesake,'  he  proceeded,  stretching 
out  his  hand  so  as  again  to  reach  the  elder  Peveril's 
cloak,  '  I  forgive  your  want  of  reminiscence,  seeing  it  is 

31S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

long  since  I  saw  you  at  Naseby,  fighting  as  if  you  had  as 
many  arms  as  the  fabled  Briareus.' 

The  knight  of  Martindale,  who  had  again  turned  his 
head  towards  the  little  man,  and  had  listened,  as  if  en- 
deavouring to  make  something  out  of  his  discourse,  here  • , 
interrupted  him  with  a  peevish  '  Pshaw ! ' 

'Pshaw!'  repeated  Sir  Geoffrey  the  less.  *" Pshaw" 
is  an  expression  of  slight  esteem  —  nay,  of  contempt  — 
in  all  languages;  and  were  this  a  befitting  place  — ' 

But  the  judges  had  now  taken  their  places,  the  criers 
called  *  Silence,'  and  the  stern  voice  of  the  Lord  Chief- 
Justice,  the  notorious  Scroggs,  demanded  what  the  ofii- 
cers  meant  by  permitting  the  accused  to  communicate 
together  in  open  court. 

It  may  here  be  observed,  that  this  celebrated  person- 
age was,  upon  the  present  occasion,  at  a  great  loss  how 
to  proceed.  A  calm,  dignified,  judicial  demeanour  was  at 
no  time  the  characteristic  of  his  official  conduct.  He 
always  ranted  and  roared  either  on  the  one  side  or  the 
other;  and  of  late  he  had  been  much  unsettled  which 
side  to  take,  being  totally  incapable  of  anything  resem- 
bhng  impartiality.  At  the  first  trials  for  the  Plot,  when 
the  whole  stream  of  popularity  ran  against  the  accused, 
no  one  had  been  so  loud  as  Scroggs;  to  attempt  to  im- 
peach the  character  of  Gates  or  Bedloe,  or  any  other 
leading  witness,  he  treated  as  a  crime  more  heinous  than 
it  would  have  been  to  blaspheme  the  Gospel  on  which 
they  had  been  sworn;  it  was  a  stifling  of  the  Plot,  or  dis- 
crediting of  the  king's  witnesses  —  a  crime  not  greatly, 
if  at  all,  short  of  high  treason  against  the  king  himself. 

But  of  late  a  new  light  had  begun  to  glimmer  upon 
the  understanding  of  this  interpreter  of  the  laws.  Saga- 

316 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

cious  in  the  signs  of  the  times,  he  began  to  see  that  the 
tide  was  turning;  and  that  court  favour  at  least,  and 
probably  popular  opinion  also,  were  likely,  in  a  short 
time,  to  declare  against  the  witnesses  and  in  favour  of 
the  accused. 

The  opinion  which  Scroggs  had  hitherto  entertained 
of  the  high  respect  in  which  Shaftesbury,  the  patron  of 
the  Plot,  was  held  by  Charles  had  been  definitively 
shaken  by  a  whisper  from  his  brother  North  to  the  fol- 
lowing effect:  'His  lordship  has  no  more  interest  at  court 
than  your  footman.' 

This  notice,  from  a  sure  hand,  and  received  but  that 
morning,  had  put  the  judge  to  a  sore  dilemma;  for, 
however  indifferent  to  actual  consistency,  he  was  most 
anxious  to  save  appearances.  He  could  not  but  recollect 
how  violent  he  had  been  on  former  occasions  in  favour  of 
these  prosecutions;  and  being  sensible  at  the  same  time 
that  the  credit  of  the  witnesses,  though  shaken  in  the 
opinion  of  the  more  judicious,  was,  amongst  the  bulk  of 
the  people  out  of  doors,  as  strong  as  ever,  he  had  a  diffi- 
cult part  to  play.  His  conduct,  therefore,  during  the 
whole  trial,  resembled  the  appearance  of  a  vessel  about 
to  go  upon  another  tack,  when  her  sails  are  shivering  in 
the  wind,  ere  they  have  yet  caught  the  impulse  which  is 
to  send  her  forth  in  a  new  direction.  In  a  word,  he  was 
so  uncertain  which  side  it  was  his  interest  to  favour,  that 
he  might  be  said  on  that  occasion  to  have  come  nearer 
a  state  of  total  impartiality  than  he  was  ever  capable 
of  attaining,  whether  before  or  afterwards.  This  was 
shown  by  his  bullying  now  the  accused,  and  now  the 
witnesses,  like  a  mastiff  too  much  irritated  to  lie  still 
without  baying,  but  uncertain  whom  he  shall  first  bite. 

317 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

The  indictment  was  then  read ;  and  Sir  Geoffrey  Pev- 
eril  heard,  with  some  composure,  the  first  part  of  it, 
which  stated  him  to  have  placed  his  son  in  the  household 
of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  a  recusant  Papist,  for  the 
purpose  of  aiding  the  horrible  and  bloodthirsty  Popish 
Plot;  with  having  had  arms  and  ammunition  concealed 
in  his  house;  and  with  receiving  a  blank  commission 
from  the  Lord  Stafford,  who  had  suffered  death  on  ac- 
count of  the  Plot.  But  when  the  charge  went  on  to  state 
that  he  had  communicated  for  the  same  purpose  with 
Geoffrey  Hudson,  sometimes  called  Sir  Geoffrey  Hud- 
son, now,  or  formerly,  in  the  domestic  service  of  the 
Queen  Dowager,  he  looked  at  his  companion  as  if  he 
suddenly  recalled  him  to  remembrance,  and  broke  out 
impatiently  — '  These  lies  are  too  gross  to  require  a 
moment's  consideration.  I  might  have  had  enough  of 
intercourse,  though  in  nothing  but  what  was  loyal  and 
innocent,  with  my  noble  kinsman,  the  late  Lord  Stafford 
—  I  will  call  him  so  in  spite  of  his  misfortunes  —  and 
with  my  wife's  relation,  the  honourable  Countess  of 
Derby;  but  what  likelihood  can  there  be  that  I  should 
have  colleagued  with  a  decrepit  buffoon,  with  whom 
I  never  had  an  instant's  communication,  save  once  at  an 
Easter  feast,  when  I  whistled  a  hornpipe,  as  he  danced 
on  a  trencher  to  amuse  the  company?' 

The  rage  of  the  poor  dwarf  brought  tears  in  his  eyes, 
while,  with  an  affected  laugh,  he  said  that,  instead  of 
those  juvenile  and  festive  passages.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril 
might  have  remembered  his  charging  along  with  him  at 
Wiggan  Lane. 

'On  my  word,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  after  a  moment's 
recollection,  '  I  will  do  you  justice,  Master  Hudson  — 

318 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

I  believe  you  were  there;  I  think  I  heard  you  did  good 
service.  But  you  will  allow  you  might  have  been  near 
one  without  his  seeing  you.' 

A  sort  of  titter  ran  through  the  court  at  the  simplic- 
ity of  the  larger  Sir  Geoffrey's  testimony,  which  the 
dwarf  endeavoured  to  control  by  standing  on  his  tiptoes 
and  looking  fiercely  around,  as  if  to  admonish  the  laugh- 
ers that  they  indulged  their  mirth  at  their  own  peril. 
But  perceiving  that  this  only  excited  further  scorn,  he 
composed  himself  into  a  semblance  of  careless  contempt, 
observing,  with  a  smile,  that  no  one  feared  the  glance 
of  a  chained  lion — a  magnificent  simile,  which  rather  in- 
creased than  diminished  the  mirth  of  those  who  heard  it. 

Against  Julian  Peverel  there  failed  not  to  be  charged 
the  aggravated  fact,  that  he  had  been  bearer  of  letters 
between  the  Countess  of  Derby  and  other  Papists  and 
priests,  engaged  in  the  universal,  treasonable  conspiracy 
of  the  Catholics;  and  the  attack  of  the  house  at  Moul- 
trassie  Hall,  with  his  skirmish  with  Chiffinch,  and  his 
assault,  as  it  was  termed,  on  the  person  of  John  Jenkins, 
servant  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  were  all  narrated 
at  length,  as  so  many  open  and  overt  acts  of  treasonable 
import.  To  this  charge  Peveril  contented  himself  with 
pleading  'Not  Guilty.' 

His  little  companion  was  not  satisfied  with  so  simple 
a  plea;  for  when  he  heard  it  read,  as  a  part  of  the  charge 
applying  to  him,  that  he  had  received  from  an  agent  of 
the  Plot  a  blank  commission  as  colonel  of  a  regiment  of 
grenadiers,  he  replied,  in  wrath  and  scorn,  that  if  Go- 
liath of  Gath  had  come  to  him  with  such  a  proposal,  and 
proffered  him  the  command  of  the  whole  sons  of  Anak  in 
a  body,  he  should  never  have  had  occasion  or  oppor- 

319 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tunity  to  repeat  the  temptation  to  another.  'I  would 
have  slain  him,'  said  the  little  man  of  loyalty,  'even 
where  he  stood.' 

The  charge  was  stated  anew  by  the  counsel  for  the 
crown ;  and  forth  came  the  notorious  Doctor  Gates,  rust- 
ling in  the  full  silken  canonicals  of  priesthood,  for  it  was 
at  a  time  when  he  affected  no  small  dignity  of  exterior 
decoration  and  deportment. 

This  singular  man,  who,  aided  by  the  obscure  intri- 
gues of  the  Catholics  themselves,  and  the  fortuitous 
circumstance  of  Godfrey's  murder,  had  been  able  to  cram 
down  the  public  throat  such  a  mass  of  absurdity  as  his 
evidence  amounts  to,  had  no  other  talent  for  imposture 
than  an  impudence  which  set  conviction  and  shame  alike 
at  defiance.  A  man  of  sense  or  reflection,  by  trying  to 
give  his  plot  an  appearance  of  more  probability,  would 
most  likely  have  failed,  as  wise  men  often  do,  in  address- 
ing the  multitude,  from  not  daring  to  calculate  upon 
the  prodigious  extent  of  their  credulity,  especially  where 
the  fragments  presented  to  them  involve  the  fearful  and 
the  terrible. 

Gates  was  by  nature  choleric,  and  the  credit  he  had 
acquired  made  him  insolent  and  conceited.  Even  his  ex- 
terior was  portentous.  A  fleece  of  white  periwig  showed 
a  most  uncouth  visage,  of  great  length,  having  the 
mouth,  as  the  organ  by  use  of  which  he  was  to  rise  to 
eminence,  placed  in  the  very  centre  of  the  countenance, 
and  exhibiting  to  the  astonished  spectator  as  much  chin 
below  as  there  was  nose  and  brow  above  the  aperture. 
His  pronunciation,  too,  was  after  a  conceited  fashion  of 
his  own,  in  which  he  accented  the  vowels  in  a  manner 
altogether  peculiar  to  himself. 

320 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

This  notorious  personage,  such  as  we  have  described 
him,  stood  forth  on  the  present  trial,  and  delivered  his 
astonishing  testimony  concerning  the  existence  of  a 
Catholic  plot  for  the  subversion  of  the  government  and 
murder  of  the  King  in  the  same  general  outline  in  which 
it  may  be  found  in  every  English  history.  But  as  the  doc- 
tor always  had  in  reserve  some  special  piece  of  evidence 
affecting  those  immediately  on  trial,  he  was  pleased,  on 
the  present  occasion,  deeply  to  inculpate  the  Countess 
of  Derby.  'He  had  seen,'  as  he  said,  'that  honourable 
lady  when  he  was  at  the  Jesuits'  College  at  St.  Omer's. 
She  had  sent  for  him  to  an  inn,  or  auberge,  as  it  was  there 
termed,  the  sign  of  the  Golden  Lamb,  and  had  ordered 
him  to  breakfast  in  the  same  room  with  her  ladyship; 
and  afterwards  told  him  that,  knowing  he  was  trusted 
by  the  fathers  of  the  society,  she  was  determined  that  he 
should  have  a  share  of  her  secrets  also;  and  therewithal, 
that  she  drew  from  her  bosom  a  broad,  sharp-pointed 
knife,  such  as  butchers  kill  sheep  with,  and  demanded  of 
him  what  he  thought  of  it  for  the  purpose  ;  and  when  he, 
the  witness,  said  "  For  what  purpose?"  she  rapt  him  on 
the  fingers  with  her  fan,  called  him  a  dull  fellow,  and 
said  it  was  designed  to  kill  the  King  with.' 

Here  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  could  no  longer  refrain  his 
indignation  and  surprise.  'Mercy  of  Heaven!'  he  said, 
'  did  ever  one  hear  of  ladies  of  quality  carrying  butcher- 
ing knives  about  them,  and  telling  every  scurvy  com- 
panion she  meant  to  kill  the  King  with  them?  Gentle- 
men of  the  jury,  do  but  think  if  this  is  reasonable  — 
though,  if  the  villain  could  prove  by  any  honest  evidence 
that  my  lady  of  Derby  ever  let  such  a  scum  as  himself 
come  to  speech  of  her,  I  would  believe  all  he  can  say.' 
23  321 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Sir  GeoflFrey,'  said  the  judge,  'rest  you  quiet.  You 
must  not  fly  out:  passion  helps  you  not  here;  the  doctor 
must  be  suffered  to  proceed.' 

Doctor  Gates  went  on  to  state  how  the  lady  com- 
plained of  the  wrongs  the  house  of  Derby  had  sustained 
from  the  King,  and  the  oppression  of  her  religion,  and 
boasted  of  the  schemes  of  the  Jesuits  and  seminary 
priests;  and  how  they  would  be  furthered  by  her  noble 
kinsmen  of  the  house  of  Stanley.  He  finally  averred 
that  both  the  countess  and  the  fathers  of  the  seminary 
abroad  founded  much  upon  the  talents  and  courage  of 
Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  and  his  son,  the  latter  of  whom 
was  a  member  of  her  family.  Of  Hudson  he  only  recol- 
lected of  having  heard  one  of  the  fathers  say,  '  that  al- 
though but  a  dwarf  in  stature,  he  would  prove  a  giant 
in  the  cause  of  the  church.' 

When  he  had  ended  his  evidence,  there  was  a  pause, 
until  the  judge,  as  if  the  thought  had  suddenly  occurred 
to  him,  demanded  of  Dr.  Gates,  whether  he  had  ever 
mentioned  the  name  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  in  any 
of  the  previous  informations  which  he  had  lodged 
before  the  privy  council  and  elsewhere  upon  this 
affair. 

Gates  seemed  rather  surprised  at  the  question,  and 
coloured  with  anger  as  he  answered,  in  his  peculiar  mode 
of  pronunciation,  'Whoy,  no,  maay  laard.' 

'And  pray,  doctor,'  said  the  judge,  'how  came  so  great 
a  revealer  of  mysteries  as  you  have  lately  proved  to  have 
suffered  so  material  a  circumstance  as  the  accession  of 
this  powerful  family  to  the  Plot  to  have  remained  undis- 
covered?' 

'Maay  laard,'  said  Gates,  with  much  effrontery,  'aye 
322 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

do  not  come  here  to  have  my  evidence  questioned  as 
touching  the  Plaat.' 

*I  do  not  question  your  evidence,  doctor,'  said 
Scroggs,  for  the  time  was  not  arrived  that  he  dared  treat 
him  roughly ;  *  nor  do  I  doubt  the  existence  of  the ' '  Plaat, " 
since  it  is  your  pleasure  to  swear  to  it.  I  would  only 
have  you,  for  your  own  sake,  and  the  satisfaction  of  all 
good  Protestants,  to  explain  why  you  have  kept  back 
such  a  weighty  point  of  information  from  the  King  and 
country.' 

*Maay  laard,'  said  Gates,  'I  will  tell  you  a  pretty 
fable.' 

*I  hope,'  answered  the  judge,  *it  may  be  the  first  and 
last  which  you  shall  tell  in  this  place.' 

'  Maay  laard,'  continued  Gates,  *  there  was  once  a  faux, 
who,  having  to  caarry  a  goose  aaver  a  frazen  river,  and 
being  afraid  the  aice  would  not  bear  him  and  his  booty, 
did  caarry  aaver  a  staane,  maay  laard,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  prove  the  strength  of  the  aice.' 

*  So  your  former  evidence  was  but  the  stone,  and  now, 
for  the  first  time,  you  have  brought  us  the  goose? '  said 
Sir  William  Scroggs;  'to  tell  us  this,  doctor,  is  to  make 
geese  of  the  court  and  jury.' 

*I  desoire  your  laardship's  honest  construction,'  said 
Gates,  who  saw  the  current  changing  against  him,  but 
was  determined  to  pay  the  score  with  effrontery.  'All 
men  knaw  at  what  coast  and  praice  I  have  given  my 
evidence,  which  has  been  always,  under  Gaad,  the 
means  of  awakening  this  poor  naation  to  the  dangerous 
state  in  which  it  staunds.  Many  here  knaw  that  I  have 
been  obliged  to  faartify  my  ladging  at  Whitehall  against 
the  bloody  Papists.  It  was  not  to  be  thought  that  I 

323 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

should  have  brought  all  the  story  out  at  aance.  I  think 
your  wisdom  would  have  advised  me  otherwise.'^ 

*Nay,  doctor,'  said  the  judge,  'it  is  not  for  me  to  di- 
rect you  in  this  affair;  and  it  is  for  the  jury  to  believe 
you  or  not;  and  as  for  myself,  I  sit  here  to  do  justice  to 
both.  The  jury  have  heard  your  answer  to  my  ques- 
tion.' 

Doctor  Gates  retired  from  the  witness-box  reddening 
like  a  turkey-cock,  as  one  totally  unused  to  have  such 
accounts  questioned  as  he  chose  to  lay  before  the  courts 
of  justice;  and  there  was,  perhaps  for  the  first  time, 
amongst  the  counsel  and  solicitors,  as  well  as  the  Tem- 
plars and  students  of  law  there  present,  a  murmur,  dis- 
tinct and  audible,  unfavourable  to  the  character  of  the 
great  father  of  the  Popish  Plot. 

Everett  and  Dangerfield,  with  whom  the  reader  is  al- 
ready acquainted,  were  then  called  in  succession  to  sus- 
tain the  accusation.    They  were  subordinate  informers 

—  a  sort  of  underspur-leathers,  as  the  cant  term  went 

—  who  followed  the  path  of  Gates,  with  all  deference  to 
his  superior  genius  and  invention,  and  made  their  own 
fictions  chime  in  and  harmonise  with  his,  as  well  as  their 
talents  could  devise.  But  as  their  evidence  had  at  no 
time  received  the  full  credence  into  which  the  impud- 
ence of  Gates  had  cajoled  the  public,  so  they  now 
began  to  fall  into  discredit  rather  more  hastily  than 
their  prototype,  as  the  superadded  turrets  of  an  ill- 
constructed  building  are  naturally  the  first  to  give  way. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Everett,  with  the  precision  of  a 

hypocrite,  and  Dangerfield,  with  the  audacity  of  a  bully, 

narrated,  with  added  circumstances  of  suspicion  and 

*  See  Note  17. 

324 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

criminality,  their  meeting  with  Julian  Peveril  in  Liver- 
pool, and  again  at  Martindale  Castle.  It  was  in  vain 
they  described  the  arms  and  accountrements  which  they 
pretended  to  have  discovered  in  old  Sir  Geoffrey's  pos- 
sessions, and  that  they  gave  a  most  dreadful  account  of 
the  escape  of  the  younger  Peveril  from  Moultrassie  Hall 
by  means  of  an  armed  force. 

The  jury  listened  coldly,  and  it  was  visible  that  they 
were  but  little  moved  by  the  accusation,  especially  as  the 
judge,  always  professing  his  belief  in  the  Plot  and  his  zeal 
for  the  Protestant  religion,  was  ever  and  anon  remind- 
ing them  that  presumptions  were  no  proofs,  that  hearsay 
was  no  evidence,  that  those  who  made  a  trade  of  dis- 
covery were  likely  to  aid  their  researches  by  invention, 
and  that  without  doubting  the  guilt  of  the  unfortunate 
persons  at  the  bar,  he  would  gladly  hear  some  evidence 
brought  against  them  of  a  different  nature.  'Here  we 
are  told  of  a  riot,  and  an  escape  achieved  by  the  younger 
Peveril,  at  the  house  of  a  grave  and  worthy  magistrate, 
known,  I  think,  to  most  of  us.  Why,  Master  Attorney, 
bring  ye  not  Master  Bridgenorth  himself  to  prove  the 
fact,  or  all  his  household,  if  it  be  necessary?  A  rising  in 
arms  is  an  affair  over  public  to  be  left  on  the  hearsay 
tale  of  these  two  men,  though  Heaven  forbid  that  I 
should  suppose  they  speak  one  word  more  than  they  be- 
lieve. They  are  the  witnesses  for  the  King,  and,  what 
is  equally  dear  to  us,  the  Protestant  religion,  and  wit- 
nesses against  a  most  foul  and  heathenish  plot.  On 
the  other  hand,  here  is  a  worshipful  old  knight,  for  such 
I  must  suppose  him  to  be,  since  he  has  bled  often  in  bat- 
tle for  the  King  —  such,  I  must  say,  I  suppose  him  to  be, 
until  he  is  proved  otherwise.  And  here  is  his  son,  a  hope- 

325. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

f ul  young  gentleman  —  we  must  see  that  they  have 
right,  Master  Attorney.' 

'Unquestionably,  my  lord/  answered  the  attorney. 
*  God  forbid  else !  But  we  will  make  out  these  matters 
against  these  unhappy  gentlemen  in  a  manner  more  close, 
if  your  lordship  will  permit  us  to  bring  in  our  evidence,' 

'Go  on.  Master  Attorney,'  said  the  judge,  throwing 
himself  back  in  his  seat.  'Heaven  forbid  I  hinder  prov- 
ing the  King's  accusation !  I  only  say,  what  you  know 
as  well  as  I,  that  de  non  apparentibus  etnon  existentibus 
eadem  est  ratio.' 

'We  shall  then  call  Master  Bridgenorth,  as  your  lord- 
ship advises,  who  I  think  is  in  waiting.' 

'No!'  answered  a  voice  from  the  crowd,  apparently 
that  of  a  female,  'he  is  too  wise  and  too  honest  to  be 
here.' 

The  voice  was  distinct  as  that  of  Lady  Fairfax,  when 
she  expressed  herself  to  a  similar  effect  on  the  trial  of 
Charles  the  First;  but  the  researches  which  were  made 
on  the  present  occasion  to  discover  the  speaker  were  un- 
successful. 

After  the  slight  confusion  occasioned  by  this  circum- 
stance was  abated,  the  attorney,  who  had  been  talking 
aside  with  the  conductors  of  the  prosecution,  said, 
'Whoever  favoured  us  with  that  information,  my  lord, 
had  good  reason  for  what  they  said.  Master  Bridge- 
north  has  become,  I  am  told,  suddenly  invisible  since 
this  morning.' 

'Look  you  there  now.  Master  Attorney,'  said  the 
judge;  'this  comes  of  not  keeping  the  crown  witnesses 
together  and  in  readiness.  I  am  sure  I  cannot  help  the 
consequences.' 

326 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Nor  I  either,  my  lord,'  said  the  attorney,  pettishly. 

*  I  could  have  proved  by  this  worshipful  gentleman, 
Master  Justice  Bridgenorth,  the  ancient  friendship  be- 
twixt this  party,  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  and  the  Countess 
of  Derby,  of  whose  doings  and  intentions  Doctor  Gates 
has  given  such  a  deliberate  evidence.  I  could  have 
proved  his  having  sheltered  her  in  his  castle  against  a 
process  of  law,  and  rescued  her,  by  force  of  arms,  from 
this  very  Justice  Bridgenorth,  not  without  actual  vio- 
lence. Moreover,  I  could  have  proved  against  young 
Peveril  the  whole  affray  charged  upon  him  by  the  same 
worshipful  evidence.' 

Here  the  judge  stuck  his  thumbs  into  his  girdle,  which 
was  a  favorite  attitude  of  his  on  such  occasions,  and 
exclaimed,  '  Pshaw  !  —  pshaw,  Master  Attorney  !  Tell 
me  not  that  you  could  have  proved  this,  and  you  could 
have  proved  that,  or  that,  or  this.  Prove  what  you  will, 
but  let  it  be  through  the  mouths  of  your  evidence.  Men 
are  not  to  be  Ucked  out  of  their  lives  by  the  rough  side 
of  a  lawyer's  tongue.' 

'  Nor  is  a  foul  plot  to  be  smothered,'  said  the  attorney, 

*  for  all  the  haste  your  lordship  is  in.  I  cannot  call  Mas- 
ter Chifiinch  neither,  as  he  is  employed  on  the  King's 
especial  affairs,  as  I  am  this  instant  certiorated  from  the 
court  at  Whitehall.' 

'  Produce  the  papers,  then,  Master  Attorney,  of 
which  this  young  man  is  said  to  be  the  bearer,'  said 
the  judge. 

'  They  are  before  the  privy  council,  my  lord.' 

'  Then  why  do  you  found  on  them  here  ? '  said  the 
judge.    '  This  is  something  like  trifling  with  the  court.' 

'Since  your  lordship  gives  it  that  name,'  said   the 

327 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

attorney,  sitting  down  in  a  huff,  'you  may  manage  the 
cause  as  you  will.' 

'If  you  do  not  bring  more  evidence,  I  pray  you  to 
charge  the  jury,'  said  the  judge. 

*I  shall  not  take  the  trouble  to  do  so,'  said  the 
crown  counsel.    'I  see  plainly  how  the  matter  is  to 

go.' 

'Nay,  but  be  better  advised,'  said  Scroggs.  'Con- 
sider, your  case  is  but  half  proved  respecting  the  two 
Peverils,  and  doth  not  pinch  on  the  little  man  at  all, 
saving  that  Doctor  Gates  said  that  he  was  in  a  certain 
case  to  prove  a  giant,  which  seems  no  very  probable 
Popish  miracle.' 

This  sally  occasioned  a  laugh  in  the  court,  which  the 
attorney-general  seemed  to  take  in  great  dudgeon. 

'Master  Attorney,'  said  Gates,  who  always  interfered 
in  the  management  of  these  lawsuits,  'this  is  a  plain 
and  absolute  giving  away  of  the  cause  —  I  must  needs 
say  it,  a  mere  stoifiing  of  the  Plaat.' 

'Then  the  devil  who  bred  it  may  blow  wind  into 
it  again,  if  he  lists,'  answered  the  attorney-general; 
and,  flinging  down  his  brief,  he  left  the  court,  as  in 
a  huff  with  all  who  were  concerned  in  the  affair. 

The  judge  having  obtained  silence,  for  a  murmur  arose 
in  the  court  when  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  threw 
up  his  brief,  began  to  charge  the  jury,  balancing,  as  he 
had  done  throughout  the  whole  day,  the  different  opin- 
ions by  which  he  seemed  alternately  swayed.  He  pro- 
tested on  his  salvation  that  he  had  no  more  doubt  of  the 
existence  of  the  horrid  and  damnable  conspiracy  called 
the  Popish  Plot  than  he  had  of  the  treachery  of  Judas 
Iscariot;  and  that  he  considered  Gates  as  the  instrument 

328 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

under  Providence  of  preserving  the  nation  from  all  the 
miseries  of  his  Majesty's  assassination,  and  of  a  second 
St.  Bartholomew,  acted  in  the  streets  of  London.  But 
then  he  stated  it  was  the  candid  construction  of  the  law 
of  England,  that  the  worse  the  crime,  the  more  strong 
should  be  the  evidence.  Here  was  the  case  of  accessories 
tried,  whilst  their  principal  —  for  such  he  should  call  the 
Countess  of  Derby  —  was  unconvicted  and  at  large ; 
and  for  Doctor  Gates,  he  had  but  spoke  of  matters  which 
personally  applied  to  that  noble  lady,  whose  words,  if 
she  used  such  in  passion,  touching  aid  which  she  ex- 
pected in  some  treasonable  matters  from  these  Peverils, 
and  from  her  kinsmen,  or  her  son's  kinsmen,  of  the  house 
of  Stanley,  may  have  been  but  a  burst  of  female  resent- 
ment —  dulcis  Amaryllidis  ira,  as  the  poet  hath  it.  Who 
knoweth  but  Doctor  Gates  did  mistake  —  he  being  a 
gentleman  of  a  comely  countenance  and  easy  demeanour 
■ —  this  same  rap  with  the  fan  as  a  chastisement  for  lack 
of  courage  in  the  Catholic  cause,  when,  peradventure,  it 
was  otherwise  meant,  as  Popish  ladies  will  put,  it  is  said, 
such  neophytes  and  youthful  candidates  for  orders  to 
many  severe  trials.  '  I  speak  these  things  jocularly,'  said 
the  judge,  *  having  no  wish  to  stain  the  reputation  either 
of  the  honourable  countess  or  the  reverend  doctor ;  only 
I  think  the  bearing  between  them  may  have  related  to 
something  short  of  high  treason.  As  for  what  the  at- 
torney-general hath  set  forth  of  rescues  and  force,  and 
I  wot  not  what,  sure  I  am  that,  in  a  civil  country,  when 
such  things  happen,  such  things  may  be  proved,  and  that 
you  and  I,  gentlemen,  are  not  to  take  them  for  granted 
gratuitously.  Touching  this  other  prisoner,  this  Galfri- 
dus  minimus,  he  must  needs  say,'  he  continued,  *he 

329 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

could  not  discover  even  a  shadow  of  suspicion  against 
him.  Was  it  to  be  thought  so  abortive  a  creature  would 
thrust  himself  into  depths  of  pohcy,  far  less  into  strata- 
gems of  war?  They  had  but  to  look  at  him  to  conclude 
the  contrary:  the  creature  was,  from  his  age,  fitter  for 
the  grave  than  a  conspiracy,  and  by  his  size  and  appear- 
ance, for  the  inside  of  a  raree-show  than  the  mysteries  of 
a  plot.' 

The  dwarf  here  broke  in  upon  the  judge  by  force  of 
screaming,  to  assure  him  that  he  had  been,  simple  as  he 
sat  there,  engaged  in  seven  plots  in  Cromwell's  time; 
and,  as  he  proudly  added,  with  some  of  the  tallest  men 
of  England.  The  matchless  look  and  air  with  which  Sir 
Geoffrey  Hudson  made  this  vaunt  set  all  a-laughing,  and 
increased  the  ridicule  with  which  the  whole  trial  began 
to  be  received ;  so  that  it  was  amidst  shaking  sides  and 
watery  eyes  that  a  general  verdict  of  '  Not  Guilty '  was 
pronounced,  and  the  prisoners  dismissed  from  the  bar. 

But  a  warmer  sentiment  awakened  among  those  who 
saw  the  father  and  son  throw  themselves  into  each 
other's  arms,  and,  after  a  hearty  embrace,  extend  their 
hands  to  their  poor  little  companion  in  peril,  who,  like  a 
dog,  when  present  at  a  similar  scene,  had  at  last  suc- 
ceeded, by  stretching  himself  up  to  them  and  whimper- 
ing at  the  same  time,  to  secure  to  himself  a  portion  of 
their  sympathy  and  gratulation. 

Such  was  the  singular  termination  of  this  trial.  Charles 
himself  was  desirous  to  have  taken  considerable  credit 
with  the  Duke  of  Ormond  for  the  evasion  of  the  law 
which  had  been  thus  effected  by  his  private  connivance; 
and  was  both  surprised  and  mortified  at  the  coldness 
with  which  his  Grace  replied,  that  he  was  rejoiced  at  the 

33° 


H 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

poor  gentlemen's  safety,  but  would  rather  have  had  the 
King  redeem  them  like  a  prince,  by  his  royal  preroga- 
tive of  mercy,  than  that  his  judge  should  convey  them 
out  of  the  power  of  the  law,  like  a  juggler  with  his  cups 
and  balls. 


1 


CHAPTER  XLII 


On  fair  ground 
I  could  beat  forty  of  them! 

Coriolanus. 


It  doubtless  occurred  to  many  that  were  present  at  the 
trial  we  have  described,  that  it  was  managed  in  a  singu- 
lar manner,  and  that  the  quarrel,  which  had  the  appear- 
ance of  having  taken  place  between  the  court  and  the 
crown  counsel,  might  proceed  from  some  private  under- 
standing betwixt  them,  the  object  of  the  miscarriage  of 
the  accusation.  Yet  though  such  underhand  dealing  was 
much  suspected,  the  greater  part  of  the  audience,  being 
well  educated  and  intelligent,  had  already  suspected  the 
bubble  of  the  Popish  Plot,  and  were  glad  to  see  that 
accusations,  founded  on  what  had  already  cost  so 
much  blood,  could  be  evaded  in  any  way.  But  the 
crowd,  who  waited  in  the  Court  of  Requests,  and  in 
the  hall,  and  without  doors,  viewed  in  a  very  different 
light  the  combination,  as  they  interpreted  it,  between 
the  judge  and  the  attorney-general  for  the  escape  of 
the  prisoners. 

Gates,  whom  less  provocation  than  he  had  that  day 
received  often  induced  to  behave  Hke  one  frantic  with 
passion,  threw  himself  amongst  the  crowd,  and  repeated 
till  he  was  hoarse,  *  Theay  are  stoifling  the  Plaat  — 
theay  are  straangling  the  Plaat !  My  Laard  Justice  and 
Maaster  Attarney  are  in  league  to  secure  the  escape  of 
the  plaaters  and  Paapists ! ' 

332 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'It  is  the  device  of  the  Papist  whore  of  Portsmouth/ 
said  one. 

*  Of  old  Rowley  himself,'  said  another. 

*  If  he  could  be  murdered  by  himself,  why,  hang  those 
that  would  hinder  it!'  exclaimed  a  third. 

*He  should  be  tried,'  said  a  fourth,  'for  conspiring  his 
own  death,  and  hanged  in  terrorem.' 

In  the  meanwhile,  Sir  Geoffrey,  his  son,  and  their 
Httle  companion  left  the  hall,  intending  to  go  to  Lady 
Peveril's  lodgings,  which  had  been  removed  to  Fleet 
Street.  She  had  been  relieved  from  considerable  incon- 
venience, as  Sir  Geoffrey  gave  Julian  hastily  to  under- 
stand, by  an  angel,  in  the  shape  of  a  young  friend,  and 
she  now  expected  them  doubtless  with  impatience.  Hu- 
manity, and  some  indistinct  idea  of  having  unintention- 
ally hurt  the  feelings  of  the  poor  dwarf,  induced  the  hon- 
est Cavalier  to  ask  this  unprotected  being  to  go  with 
them.  *  He  knew  Lady  Peveril's  lodgings  were  but  small,' 
he  said ;  *  but  it  would  be  strange  if  there  was  not  some 
cupboard  large  enough  to  accommodate  the  little  gentle- 
man.' 

The  dwarf  registered  this  well-meant  remark  in  his 
mind,  to  be  the  subject  of  a  proper  explanation,  along 
with  the  unhappy  reminiscence  of  the  trencher-hornpipe, 
whenever  time  should  permit  an  argument  of  such 
nicety. 

And  thus  they  sallied  from  the  hall,  attracting  general 
observation,  both  from  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
had  stood  so  lately  and  from  their  resemblance,  as  a  wag 
of  the  Inner  Temple  expressed  it,  to  the  three  degrees  of 
comparison  —  large,  lesser,  least.  But  they  had  not 
passed  far  along  the  street,  when  Julian  perceived  that 

333 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

more  malevolent  passions  than  mere  curiosity  began 
to  actuate  the  crowd,  which  followed,  and,  as  it  were, 
dogged,  their  motions. 

'There  go  the  Papist  cut- throats,  tantivy  for  Rome!' 
said  one  fellow. 

'Tantivy  to  Whitehall,  you  mean!'  said  another. 

*Ah!  the  bloodthirsty  villains!'  cried  a  woman. 
'Shame,  one  of  them  should  be  suffered  to  live,  after 
poor  Sir  Edmondsbury 's  cruel  murder ! ' 

'Out  upon  the  mealy-mouthed  jury  that  turned  out 
the  bloodhounds  on  an  innocent  town!'  cried  a  fourth. 

In  short,  the  tumult  thickened,  and  the  word  began 
to  pass  among  the  more  desperate,  'Lambe  them,  lads 
—  Lambe  them ! '  a  cant  phrase  of  the  time,  derived 
from  the  fate  of  Dr.  Lambe,  an  astrologer  and  quack, 
who  was  knocked  on  the  head  by  the  rabble  in  Charles 
the  First's  time. 

Julian  began  to  be  much  alarmed  at  these  symptoms 
of  violence,  and  regretted  that  they  had  not  gone  down 
to  the  city  by  water.  It  was  now  too  late  to  think  of  that 
mode  of  retreating,  and  he  therefore  requested  his  fa- 
ther in  a  whisper  to  walk  steadily  forward  towards  Char- 
ing Cross,  taking  no  notice  of  the  insults  which  might 
be  cast  upon  them,  while  the  steadiness  of  their  pace  and 
appearance  might  prevent  the  rabble  from  resorting  to 
actual  violence.  The  execution  of  this  prudent  resolu- 
tion was  prevented  after  they  had  passed  the  palace,  by 
the  hasty  disposition  of  the  elder  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  the 
no  less  choleric  temper  of  Galfridus  minimus,  who  had  a 
soul  which  spurned  all  odds,  as  well  of  numbers  as  of 
size. 

'  Now  a  murrain  take  the  knaves,  with  their  hallooing 

334 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  whooping,'  said  the  larger  knight;  'by  this  day,  if  I 
could  but  light  on  a  weapon,  I  would  cudgel  reason  and 
loyalty  into  some  of  their  carcasses ! ' 

'And  I  also,'  said  the  dwarf,  who  was  toiling  to  keep 
up  with  the  longer  strides  of  his  companions,  and  there- 
fore spoke  in  a  very  phthisical  tone  —  *  I  also  will 
cudgel  the  plebeian  knaves  beyond  measure  —  he  — ! 
hem!' 

Among  the  crowd  who  thronged  around  them,  im- 
peded, and  did  all  but  assault  them,  was  a  mischievous 
shoemaker's  apprentice,  who,  hearing  this  unlucky 
vaunt  of  the  valorous  dwarf,  repaid  it  by  flapping  him 
on  the  head  with  a  boot  which  he  was  carrying  home  to 
the  owner,  so  as  to  knock  the  little  gentleman's  hat  over 
his  eyes.  The  dwarf,  thus  rendered  unable  to  discover 
the  urchin  that  had  given  him  the  offence,  flew  with  in- 
stinctive ambition  against  the  biggest  fellow  in  the 
crowd,  who  received  the  onset  with  a  kick  on  the  stom- 
ach, which  made  the  poor  little  champion  reel  back  to 
his  companions.  They  were  now  assaulted  on  all  sides; 
but  fortune,  complying  with  the  wish  of  Sir  Geoffrey  the 
larger,  ordained  that  the  scuffle  should  happen  near  the 
booth  of  a  cutler,  from  amongst  whose  wares,  as  they 
stood  exposed  to  the  public.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril 
snatched  a  broadsword,  which  he  brandished  with  the 
formidable  address  of  one  who  had  for  many  a  day  been 
in  the  familiar  practice  of  using  such  a  weapon.  Julian, 
while  at  the  same  time  he  called  loudly  for  a  peace- 
officer,  and  reminded  the  assailants  that  they  were 
attacking  inoffensive  passengers,  saw  nothing  better  for 
it  than  to  imitate  his  father's  example,  and  seized  also 
one  of  the  weapons  thus  opportunely  offered. 

335 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

When  they  displayed  these  demonstrations  of  de- 
fence, the  rush  which  the  rabble  at  first  made  towards 
them  was  so  great  as  to  throw  down  the  unfortunate 
dwarf,  who  would  have  been  trampled  to  death  in  the 
scuffle,  had  not  his  stout  old  namesake  cleared  the  rascal 
crowd  from  about  him  with  a  few  flourishes  of  his  wea- 
pon, and,  seizing  on  the  fallen  champion,  put  him  out  of 
danger  (except  from  missiles)  by  suddenly  placing  him 
on  the  bulk-head,  that  is  to  say,  the  flat  wooden  roof,  of 
the  cutler's  projecting  booth.  From  the  rusty  ironware 
which  was  displayed  there,  the  dwarf  instantly  snatched 
an  old  rapier  and  target,  and,  covering  himself  with  the 
one,  stood  making  passes  with  the  other  at  the  faces  and 
eyes  of  the  people  in  the  street,  so  much  delighted  with 
his  post  of  vantage,  that  he  called  loudly  to  his  friends, 
who  were  skirmishing  with  the  rioters  on  more  equal 
terms  as  to  position,  to  lose  no  time  in  putting  them- 
selves under  his  protection.  But,  far  from  being  in  a  situ- 
ation to  need  his  assistance,  the  father  and  son  might 
easily  have  extricated  themselves  from  the  rabble  by 
their  own  exertions,  could  they  have  thought  of  leaving 
the  mannikin  in  the  forlorn  situation,  in  which,  to  every 
eye  but  his  own,  he  stood  like  a  diminutive  puppet, 
tricked  out  with  sword  and  target  as  a  fencing-master's 
sign. 

Stones  and  sticks  began  now  to  fly  very  thick,  and  the 
crowd,  notwithstanding  the  exertions  of  the  Peverils  to 
disperse  them  with  as  little  harm  as  possible,  seemed 
determined  on  mischief,  when  some  gentlemen  who  had 
been  at  the  trial,  understanding  that  the  prisoners  who 
had  just  been  acquitted  were  in  danger  of  being  mur- 
dered by  the  populace,  drew  their  swords  and  made  for- 

336 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ward  to  effect  their  rescue,  which  was  completed  by  a 
small  party  of  the  King's  Life  Guards,  who  had  been 
despatched  from  their  ordinary  post  of  alarm  upon  in- 
telligence of  what  was  passing.  When  this  unexpected 
reinforcement  arrived,  the  old  jolly  knight  at  once 
recognised,  amidst  the  cries  of  those  who  then  entered 
upon  action,  some  of  the  sounds  which  had  animated  his 
more  active  years. 

'Where  be  these  cuckoldly  Roundheads?'  cried  some. 
'Down  with  the  sneaking  knaves!'  cried  others.  'The 
King  and  his  friends,  and  the  devil  a  one  else ! '  exclaimed 
a  third  set,  with  more  oaths  and  'd — n  me's  '  than,  in 
the  present  more  correct  age,  it  is  necessary  to  commit 
to  paper. 

The  old  soldier,  pricking  up  his  ears  like  an  ancient 
hunter  at  the  cry  of  the  hounds,  would  gladly  have 
scoured  the  Strand  with  the  charitable  purpose,  now  he 
saw  himself  so  well  supported,  of  knocking  the  London 
knaves  who  had  insulted  him  into  twiggen  bottles;  but 
he  was  withheld  by  the  prudence  of  Julian,  who,  though 
himself  extremely  irritated  by  the  unprovoked  ill-usage 
which  they  had  received,  saw  himself  in  a  situation  in 
which  it  was  necessary  to  exercise  more  caution  than 
vengeance.  He  prayed  and  pressed  his  father  to  seek 
some  temporary  place  of  retreat  from  the  fury  of  the 
populace,  while  that  prudent  measure  was  yet  in  their 
power.  The  subaltern  officer  who  commanded  the  party 
of  the  Life  Guards  exhorted  the  old  Cavalier  eagerly  to 
the  same  sage  counsel,  using,  as  a  spice  of  compulsion, 
the  name  of  the  King,  while  Julian  strongly  urged  that 
of  his  mother.  The  old  knight  looked  at  his  blade,  crim- 
soned with  cross-cuts  and  slashes  which  he  had  given  to 

28  337 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  most  forward  of  the  assailants,  with  the  eye  of  one 

not  half  sufficed. 

'I  would  I  had  pinked  one  of  the  knaves  at  least;  but 
I  know  not  how  it  was,  when  I  looked  at  their  broad, 
round  Enghsh  faces,  I  shunned  to  use  my  point,  and 
only  sliced  the  rogues  a  httle.' 

*But  the  King's  pleasure,'  said  the  ofl&cer,  *is,  that  no 
tumult  be  prosecuted.' 

*My  mother,'  said  Julian,  'will  die  with  fright  if  the 
rumour  of  this  scuffle  reaches  her  ere  we  see  her.' 

*Ay  —  ay,'  said  the  knight,  'the  King's  Majesty,  and 
my  good  dame  —  well,  their  pleasure  be  done,  that 's  all 
I  can  say.  Kings  and  ladies  must  be  obeyed.  But  which 
way  to  retreat,  since  retreat  we  needs  must? ' 

Julian  would  have  been  at  some  loss  to  advise  what 
course  to  take,  for  everybody  in  the  vicinity  had  shut 
up  their  shops  and  chained  their  doors,  upon  observing 
the  confusion  become  so  formidable.  The  poor  cutler, 
however,  with  whose  goods  they  made  so  free,  offered 
them  an  asylum  on  the  part  of  his  landlord,  whose  house 
served  as  a  rest  for  his  shop,  and  only  intimated  gently, 
he  hoped  the  gentlemen  would  consider  him  for  the  use 
of  his  weapons. 

Julian  was  hastily  revolving  whether  they  ought,  in 
prudence,  to  accept  this  man's  invitation,  aware,  by  ex- 
perience, how  many  trepans,  as  they  were  then  termed, 
were  used  betwixt  two  contending  factions,  each  too  in- 
veterate to  be  very  scrupulous  of  the  character  of  fair 
play  to  an  enemy,  when  the  dwarf,  exerting  his  cracked 
voice  to  the  uttermost,  and  shrieking  like  an  exhausted 
herald  from  the  exalted  station  which  he  still  occupied 
on  the  bulk-head,  exhorted  them  to  accept  the  offer  of  the 

338 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

worthy  man  of  the  mansion.  'He  himself,'  he  said,  as  he 
reposed  himself  after  the  glorious  conquest  in  which  he 
had  some  share,  '  had  been  favoured  with  a  beatific  vis- 
ion, too  splendid  to  be  described  to  common  and  mere 
mortal  ears,  but  which  had  commanded  him,  in  a  voice 
to  which  his  heart  had  bounded  as  to  a  trumpet  sound, 
to  take  refuge  with  the  worthy  person  of  the  house,  and 
cause  his  friends  to  do  so.' 

*  Vision ! '  said  the  knight  of  the  Peak  —  '  sound  of  a 
trumpet!  the  little  man  is  stark  mad.' 

But  the  cutler,  in  great  haste,  intimated  to  them  that 
their  little  friend  had  received  an  intimation  from  a  gen- 
tlewoman of  his  acquaintance,  who  spoke  to  him  from 
the  window,  while  he  stood  on  the  bulk-head,  that  they 
would  find  a  safe  retreat  in  his  landlord's;  and,  desiring 
them  to  attend  to  two  or  three  deep  though  distant 
huzzas,  made  them  aware  that  the  rabble  were  up  still, 
and  would  soon  be  upon  them  with  renewed  violence 
and  increased  numbers. 

The  father  and  son,  therefore,  hastily  thanked  the 
officer  and  his  party,  as  well  as  the  other  gentlemen  who 
had  volunteered  in  their  assistance,  lifted  Httle  Sir 
Geoffrey  Hudson  from  the  conspicuous  post  which  he 
had  so  creditably  occupied  during  the  skirmish,  and  fol- 
lowed the  footsteps  of  the  tenant  of  the  booth,  who  con- 
ducted them  down  a  blind  alley,  and  through  one  or  two 
courts,  in  case,  as  he  said,  any  one  might  have  watched 
where  they  burrowed,  and  so  into  a  back  door.  This 
entrance  admitted  them  to  a  staircase  carefully  hung 
with  straw  mats  to  exclude  damp,  from  the  upper  step  of 
which  they  entered  upon  a  tolerably  large  withdrawing- 
room,  hung  with  coarse  green  serge  edged  with  gilded 

339 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

leather,  which  the  poorer  or  more  economical  citizens 
at  that  time  used  instead  of  tapestry  or  wainscot- 
ing. 

Here  the  poor  cutler  received  from  Julian  such  a  grat- 
uity for  the  loan  of  the  swords  that  he  generously  aban- 
doned the  property  to  the  gentlemen  who  had  used  them 
so  well;  'the  rather,'  he  said,  'that  he  saw,  by  the  way 
they  handled  their  weapons,  that  they  were  men  of 
mettle  and  tall  fellows.' 

Here  the  dwarf  smiled  on  him  courteously,  and  bowed, 
thrusting,  at  the  same  time,  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
which,  however,  he  withdrew  carelessly,  probably  be- 
cause he  found  he  had  not  the  means  of  making  the  small 
donation  which  he  had  meditated. 

The  cutler  proceeded  to  say,  as  he  bowed  and  was 
about  to  withdraw,  that  he  saw  there  would  be  merry 
days  yet  in  Old  England,  and  that  Bilboa  blades  would 
fetch  as  good  a  price  as  ever.  'I  remember,'  he  said, 
*  gentlemen,  though  I  was  then  but  a  'prentice,  the  de- 
mand for  weapons  in  the  years  forty-one  and  forty- two: 
sword  blades  were  more  in  request  than  toothpicks,  and 
Old  Ironsides,  my  master,  took  more  for  rascally  prov- 
ant  rapiers  than  I  dare  ask  nowadays  for  a  Toledo.  But, 
to  be  sure,  a  man's  life  then  rested  on  the  blade  he  car- 
ried ;  the  Cavaliers  and  Roimdheads  fought  every  day  at 
the  gates  of  Whitehall,  as  it  is  like,  gentlemen,  by  your 
good  example,  they  may  do  again,  when  I  shall  be  en- 
abled to  leave  my  pitiful  booth  and  open  a  shop  of  better 
quality.  I  hope  you  will  recommend  me,  gentlemen,  to 
your  friends.  I  am  always  provided  with  ware  which  a 
gentleman  may  risk  his  hfe  on.' 

'Thank  you,  good  friend,'  said  Julian;  'I  prithee  be- 

340 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

gone.  I  trust  we  shall  need  thy  ware  no  more  for  some 
time  at  least.' 

The  cutler  retired,  while  the  dwarf  hallooed  after  him 
downstairs,  that  *  He  would  call  on  him  soon,  and  equip 
himself  with  a  longer  blade,  and  one  more  proper  for 
action;  although,'  he  said,  'the  little  weapon  he  had  did 
well  enough  for  a  walking-sword,  or  in  a  skirmish  with 
such  canaille  as  they  had  been  engaged  with.' 

The  cutler  returned  at  this  summons,  and  agreed  to 
pleasure  the  little  man  with  a  weapon  more  suitable 
to  his  magnanimity;  then,  as  if  the  thought  had  suddenly 
occurred  to  him,  he  said,  'But,  gentlemen,  it  will  be  but 
wild  work  to  walk  with  your  naked  swords  through  the 
Strand,  and  it  can  scarce  fail  to  raise  the  rabble  again. 
If  you  please,  while  you  repose  yourselves  here,  I  can  fit 
the  blades  with  sheaths.' 

The  proposal  seemed  so  reasonable  that  Julian  and  his 
father  gave  up  their  weapons  to  the  friendly  cutler,  an 
example  which  the  dwarf  followed,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  not  caring,  as  he  magnificently  expressed  it, 
to  part  so  soon  with  the  trusty  friend  which  fortune  had 
but  the  moment  before  restored  to  his  hand.  The  man 
retired  with  the  weapons  under  his  arm ;  and,  in  shutting 
the  door  behind  him,  they  heard  him  turn  the  key. 

'Did  you  hear  that? '  said  Sir  Geoffrey  to  his  son,  *  and 
we  are  disarmed ! ' 

Julian,  without  reply,  examined  the  door,  which  was 
fast  secured;  and  then  looked  at  the  casements,  which 
were  at  a  story's  height  from  the  ground,  and  grated 
besides  with  iron.  'I  cannot  think,'  he  said,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  'that  the  fellow  means  to  trepan  us;  and, 
in  any  event,  I  trust  we  should  have  no  difficulty  in 

341 


If 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

forcing  the  door,  or  otherwise  making  an  escape.  But, 
before  resorting  to  such  violent  measures,  I  think  it  is 
better  to  give  the  rabble  leisure  to  disperse,  by  waiting 
this  man's  return  with  our  weapons  within  a  reasonable 
time,  when,  if  he  does  not  appear,  I  trust  we  shall  find 
little  difficulty  in  extricating  ourselves.'  As  he  spoke 
thus,  the  hangings  were  pulled  aside,  and,  from  a  small 
door  which  was  concealed  behind  them,  Major  Bridge- 
north  entered  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

He  came  amongst  them  like  a  new  raised  spirit, 
To  speak  of  dreadful  judgments  that  impend, 
And  of  the  wrath  to  come. 

The  Reformer. 

The  astonishment  of  Julian  at  the  unexpected  appari- 
tion of  Bridgenorth  was  instantly  succeeded  by  appre- 
hension of  his  father's  violence,  which  he  had  every  rea- 
son to  believe  would  break  forth  against  one  whom  he 
himself  could  not  but  reverence  on  account  of  his  own 
merits,  as  well  as  because  he  was  the  father  of  Alice. 
The  appearance  of  Bridgenorth  was  not,  however,  such 
as  to  awaken  resentment.  His  coimtenance  was  calm, 
his  step  slow  and  composed,  his  eye  not  without  the 
indication  of  some  deep-seated  anxiety,  but  without  any 
expression  either  of  anger  or  of  triumph.  *You  are  wel- 
come/ he  said,  'Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  to  the  shelter  and 
hospitaUty  of  this  house  —  as  welcome  as  you  would 
have  been  in  other  days,  when  we  called  each  other 
neighbours  and  friends.' 

'Odzooks,'  said  the  old  Cavalier,  'and  had  I  known  it 
was  thy  house,  man,  I  would  sooner  had  my  heart's 
blood  run  down  the  kennel  than  my  foot  should  have 
crossed  your  threshold  —  in  the  way  of  seeking  safety, 
that  is.' 

*I  forgive  your  inveteracy,'  said  Major  Bridgenorth, 
*on  accoimt  of  your  prejudices.' 

'Keep  your  forgiveness,'  answered  the  Cavalier,  'until 
you  are  pardoned  yourself.  By  St.  George,  I  have  sworn, 

343 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

if  ever  I  got  my  heels  out  of  yon  rascally  prison,  whither 
I  was  sent  much  through  your  means,  Master  Bridge- 
north,  that  you  should  pay  the  reckoning  for  my  bad 
lodging.  I  will  strike  no  man  in  his  own  house ;  but  if  you 
will  cause  the  fellow  to  bring  back  my  weapon,  and  take 
a  turn  in  that  blind  court  there  below  along  with  me,  you 
shall  soon  see  what  chance  a  traitor  hath  with  a  true 
man,  and  a  kennel-blooded  Puritan  with  Peveril  of  the 
Peak.' 

Bridgenorth  smiled  with  much  composure.  'When 
I  was  younger  and  more  warm-blooded,'  he  replied,  *I 
refused  your  challenge.  Sir  Geoffrey;  it  is  not  Hkely  I 
should  now  accept  it,  when  each  is  within  a  stride  of  the 
grave.  I  have  not  spared,  and  will  not  spare,  my  blood 
when  my  country  wants  it.' 

'That  is,  when  there  is  any  chance  of  treason  against 
the  King,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey. 

'Nay,  my  father,'  said  Julian,  'let  us  hear  Master 
Bridgenorth!  We  have  been  sheltered  in  his  house;  and 
although  we  now  see  him  in  London,  we  should  remem- 
ber that  he  did  not  appear  against  us  this  day,  when 
perhaps  his  evidence  might  have  given  a  fatal  turn  to  ^ 
our  situation.'  "^H 

'You  are  right,  young  man,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'and  it 
should  be  some  pledge  of  my  sincere  good-will  that  I  was 
this  day  absent  from  Westminster,  when  a  few  words 
from  my  mouth  had  ended  the  long  line  of  Peveril  of  the 
Peak.  It  needed  but  ten  minutes  to  walk  to  Westmin- 
ster Hall,  to  have  ensured  your  condemnation.  But 
could  I  have  done  this,  knowing,  as  I  now  know,  that  to 
thee,  Julian  Peveril,  I  owe  the  extrication  of  my  daugh- 
ter —  of  my  dearest  Ahce  —  the  memory  of  her  departed 

344 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

mother  —  from  the  snares  which  hell  and  profligacy  had 
opened  around  her? ' 

'  She  is,  I  trust,  safe,'  said  Peveril,  eagerly,  and  almost 
forgetting  his  father's  presence  —  '  she  is,  I  trust,  safe, 
and  in  your  own  wardship? ' 

'Not  in  mine,'  said  the  dejected  father;  'but  in  that 
of  one  in  whose  protection,  next  to  that  of  Heaven,  I 
can  most  fully  confide.' 

'Are  you  sure  —  are  you  very  sure  of  that?'  repeated 
Julian,  eagerly.  'I  found  her  under  the  charge  of  one  to 
whom  she  had  been  trusted,  and  who  yet  — ' 

'And  who  yet  was  the  basest  of  women,'  answered 
Bridgenorth;  'but  he  who  selected  her  for  the  charge 
was  deceived  in  her  character.' 

'Say  rather  you  were  deceived  in  his;  remember  that 
when  we  parted  at  Moultrassie  I  warned  you  of  that 
Ganlesse  —  that  — ' 

'I  know  your  meaning,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'nor  did 
you  err  in  describing  him  as  a  worldly-wise  man.  But  he 
has  atoned  for  his  error  by  recovering  Alice  from  the 
dangers  into  which  she  was  plunged  when  separated 
from  you ;  and  besides,  I  have  not  thought  meet  again  to 
entrust  him  with  the  charge  that  is  dearest  to  me.' 

'I  thank  God  your  eyes  are  thus  far  opened!'  said 
Julian. 

'This  day  will  open  them  wide,  or  close  them  for  ever,' 
answered  Bridgenorth. 

During  this  dialogue,  which  the  speakers  hurried 
through  without  attending  to  the  others  who  were 
present,  Sir  Geoffrey  listened  with  surprise  and  eager- 
ness, endeavouring  to  catch  something  which  should 
render  their  conversation  intelligible;  but  as  he  totally 

345 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

failed  in  gaining  any  such  key  to  their  meaning,  he  broke 
in  with  — '  'Sblood  and  thunder,  Julian,  what  unprofit- 
able gossip  is  this?  What  hast  thou  to  do  with  this  fel- 
low, more  than  to  bastinado  him,  if  you  should  think  it 
worth  while  to  beat  so  old  a  rogue?' 

'My  dearest  father,'  said  JuUan,  'you  know  not  this 
gentleman;  I  am  certain  you  do  him  injustice.  My  own 
obligations  to  him  are  many;  and  I  am  sure  when  you 
come  to  know  them  — ' 

'I  hope  I  shall  die  ere  that  moment  come,'  said  Sir 
Geoffrey ;  and  continued  with  increasing  violence  —  '  I 
hope,  in  the  mercy  of  Heaven,  that  I  shall  be  in  the 
grave  of  my  ancestors,  ere  I  learn  that  my  son  —  my 
only  son  —  the  last  hope  of  my  ancient  house  —  the  last 
remnant  of  the  name  of  Peveril  —  hath  consented  to 
receive  obligations  from  the  man  on  earth  I  am  most 
bound  to  hate,  were  I  not  still  more  bound  to  contemn 
him !  Degenerate  dog-whelp ! '  he  repeated  with  great 
vehemence,  'you  colour,  without  replying!  Speak,  and 
disown  such  disgrace,  or,  by  the  God  of  my  fathers  — ' 

The  dwarf  suddenly  stepped  forward  and  called  out, 
*  Forbear ! '  with  a  voice  at  once  so  discordant  and  com- 
manding that  it  sounded  supernatural.  'Man  of  sin  and 
pride,'  he  said,  'forbear;  and  call  not  the  name  of  a  holy 
God  to  witness  thine  unhallowed  resentments.' 

The  rebiike  so  boldly  and  decidedly  given,  and  the 
moral  enthusiasm  with  which  he  spoke,  gave  the  de- 
spised dwarf  an  ascendency  for  the  moment  over  the 
fiery  spirit  of  his  gigantic  namesake.  Sir  Geoffrey  Pev- 
eril eyed  him  for  an  instant  askance  and  shyly,  as  he 
might  have  done  a  supernatural  apparition,  and  then 
muttered,  'What  knowest  thou  of  my  cause  of  wrath?' 

346 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Nothing/  said  the  dwarf  —  'nothing  but  this,  that 
no  cause  can  warrant  the  oath  thou  wert  about  to  swear. 
Ungrateful  man !  thou  wert  to-day  rescued  from  the  de- 
vouring wrath  of  the  wicked  by  a  marvellous  conjunc- 
tion of  circumstances.  Is  this  a  day,  thinkest  thou,  on 
which  to  indulge  thine  own  hasty  resentments? ' 

*I  stand  rebuked,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  'and  by  a  singu- 
lar monitor:  the  grasshopper,  as  the  Prayer  Book  saith, 
hath  become  a  burden  to  me.  Julian,  I  will  speak  to  thee 
of  these  matters  hereafter.  And  for  you,  Master  Bridge- 
north,  I  desire  to  have  no  further  communication  with 
you,  either  in  peace  or  in  anger.  Our  time  passes  fast, 
and  I  would  fain  return  to  my  family.  Cause  our  weap- 
ons to  be  restored;  unbar  the  doors,  and  let  us  part 
without  further  altercation,  which  can  but  disturb  and 
aggravate  our  spirits.' 

'Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,'  said  Bridgenorth,  'I  have  no 
desire  to  vex  your  spirit  or  my  own;  but,  for  thus  soon 
dismissing  you,  that  may  hardly  be,  it  being  a  course 
inconsistent  with  the  work  which  I  have  on  hand.' 

'How,  sir!  Do  you  mean  that  we  should  abide  here, 
whether  with  or  against  our  inclinations?'  said  the 
dwarf.  'Were  it  not  that  I  am  laid  imder  charge  to  re- 
main here  by  one  who  hath  the  best  right  to  command 
this  poor  microcosm,  I  would  show  thee  that  bolts  and 
bars  are  imavaihng  restraints  on  such  as  I  am.' 

'Truly,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  'I  think,  upon  an  emerg- 
ency, the  little  man  might  make  his  escape  through  the 
keyhole.' 

Bridgenorth's  face  was  moved  into  something  hke  a 
smile  at  the  swaggering  speech  of  the  pigmy  hero  and  the 
contemptuous  commentary  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril;  but 

347 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

such  an  expression  never  dwelt  on  his  features  for  two 
seconds  together,  and  he  repKed  in  these  words: '  Gentle- 
men, each  and  all  of  you  must  be  fain  to  content  your- 
selves. Believe  me,  no  hurt  is  intended  towards  you;  on 
the  contrary,  your  remaining  here  will  be  a  means  of 
securing  your  safety,  which  would  be  otherwise  deeply 
endangered.  It  will  be  your  own  fault  if  a  hair  of  your 
heads  is  hurt.  But  the  stronger  force  is  on  my  side;  and, 
whatever  harm  you  may  meet  with,  should  you  attempt 
to  break  forth  by  violence,  the  blame  must  rest  with 
yourselves.  If  you  will  not  believe  me,  I  will  permit 
Master  Julian  Peveril  to  accompany  me  where  he  shall 
see  that  I  am  provided  fully  with  the  means  of  repressing 
violence.' 

'  Treason !  —  treason ! '  exclaimed  the  old  knight  — 
*  treason  against  God  and  King  Charles!  O  for  one  half 
hour  of  the  broadsword  which  I  parted  with  like  an 
ass!' 

'Hold,  my  father,  I  conjure  you! '  said  Julian.  'I  will 
go  with  Master  Bridgenorth,  since  he  requests  it.  I  will 
satisfy  myself  whether  there  be  danger,  and  of  what 
nature.  It  is  possible  I  may  prevail  on  him  to  desist  from 
some  desperate  measure,  if  such  be  indeed  in  agitation. 
Should  it  be  necessary,  fear  not  that  your  son  will  be- 
have as  he  ought  to  do.' 

*Do  your  pleasure,  Julian,'  said  his  father;  'I  will 
confide  in  thee.  But  if  you  betray  my  confidence,  a 
father's  curse  shall  cleave  to  you.' 

Bridgenorth  now  motioned  to  Peveril  to  follow  him, 
and  they  passed  through  the  small  door  by  which  he  had 
entered. 

The  passage  led  to  a  vestibule  or  ante-room,  in  which 

348 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

several  other  doors  and  passages  seemed  to  centre. 
Through  one  of  these  Julian  was  conducted  by  Bridge- 
north,  walking  with  silence  and  precaution  in  obedience 
to  a  signal  made  by  his  guide  to  that  effect.  As  they 
advanced,  he  heard  soimds,  Hke  those  of  the  human 
voice,  engaged  in  urgent  and  emphatic  declamation. 
With  slow  and  light  steps  Bridgenorth  conducted  him 
through  a  door  which  terminated  this  passage ;  and  as  he 
entered  a  Httle  gallery,  having  a  curtain  in  front,  the 
sound  of  the  preacher's  voice  —  for  such  it  now  seemed 
—  became  distinct  and  audible. 

Julian  now  doubted  not  that  he  was  in  one  of  those 
conventicles  which,  though  contrary  to  the  existing 
laws,  still  continued  to  be  regularly  held  in  different 
parts  of  London  and  the  suburbs.  Many  of  these,  as 
frequented  by  persons  of  moderate  political  principles, 
though  dissenters  from  the  church  for  conscience'  sake, 
were  connived  at  by  the  prudence  or  timidity  of  the 
government.  But  some  of  them,  in  which  assembled  the 
fiercer  and  more  exalted  sects  of  Independents,  Ana- 
baptists, Fifth  Monarchy  men,  and  other  sectaries, 
whose  stern  enthusiasm  had  contributed  so  greatly  to 
effect  the  overthrow  of  the  late  King's  throne,  were 
sought  after,  suppressed,  and  dispersed  whenever  they 
could  be  discovered. 

Juhan  was  soon  satisfied  that  the  meeting  into  which 
he  was  thus  secretly  introduced  was  one  of  the  latter 
class,  and,  to  judge  by  the  violence  of  the  preacher,  of 
the  most  desperate  character.  He  was  still  more  effect- 
ually convinced  of  this  when,  at  a  sign  from  Bridgenorth, 
he  cautiously  unclosed  a  part  of  the  curtain  which  hung 
before  the  gallery,  and  thus,  unseen  himself,  looked 

349 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

down  on  the  audience  and  obtained  a  view  of  the 
preacher. 

About  two  hundred  persons  were  assembled  beneath, 
in  an  area  filled  up  with  benches,  as  if  for  the  exercise  of 
worship;  and  they  were  all  of  the  male  sex,  and  well 
armed  with  pikes  and  muskets,  as  well  as  swords  and 
pistols.  Most  of  them  had  the  appearance  of  veteran 
soldiers,  now  past  the  middle  of  life,  yet  retaining  such 
an  appearance  of  strength  as  might  well  supply  the  loss 
of  youthful  agihty.  They  stood  or  sat  in  various  atti- 
tudes of  stern  attention;  and,  resting  on  their  spears  and 
muskets,  kept  their  eyes  firmly  fixed  on  the  preacher, 
who  ended  the  violence  of  his  declamation  by  displaying 
from  the  pulpit  a  banner,  on  which  was  represented  a 
lion,  with  the  motto,  '  Vicit  Leo  ex  trihu  Judce.'' 

The  torrent  of  mystical  yet  animating  eloquence  of 
the  preacher  —  an  old  grey-haired  man,  whom  zeal 
seemed  to  supply  with  the  powers  of  voice  and  action  of 
which  years  had  deprived  him  —  was  suited  to  the  taste 
of  his  audience,  but  could  not  be  transferred  to  these 
pages  without  scandal  and  impropriety.  He  menaced 
the  rulers  of  England  with  all  the  judgments  denounced 
on  those  of  Moab  and  Assyria ;  he  called  upon  the  saints 
to  be  strong,  to  be  up  and  doing;  and  promised  those 
miracles  which,  in  the  campaigns  of  Joshua  and  his  suc- 
cessors, the  valiant  Judges  of  Israel,  supplied  all  odds 
against  the  Amorites,  Midianites,  and  Philistines.  He 
sounded  trumpets,  opened  vials,  broke  seals,  and  de- 
nounced approaching  judgments  under  all  the  mystical 
signs  of  the  Apocalypse.  The  end  of  the  world 
was  announced,  accompanied  with  all  its  preliminary 
terrors. 

350 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Julian,  with  deep  anxiety,  soon  heard  enough  to  make 
him  aware  that  the  meeting  was  likely  to  terminate  in 
open  insurrection,  like  that  of  the  Fifth  Monarchy  men 
under  Venner,  at  an  earlier  period  of  Charles's  reign; 
and  he  was  not  a  little  concerned  at  the  probability  of 
Bridgenorth  being  implicated  in  so  criminal  and  des- 
perate an  undertaking.  If  he  had  retained  any  doubts  of 
the  issue  of  the  meeting,  they  must  have  been  removed 
when  the  preacher  called  on  his  hearers  to  renounce  all 
expectation  which  had  hitherto  been  entertained  of 
safety  to  the  nation  from  the  execution  of  the  ordinary 
laws  of  the  land.  This,  he  said,  was  at  best  but  a  carnal 
seeking  after  earthly  aid  —  a  going  down  to  Egypt  for 
help,  which  the  jealousy  of  their  Divine  Leader  would 
resent  as  a  fleeing  to  another  rock  and  a  different  banner 
from  that  which  was  this  day  displayed  over  them.  And 
here  he  solemnly  swung  the  bannered  lion  over  their 
heads,  as  the  only  sign  under  which  they  ought  to  seek 
for  life  and  safety.  He  then  proceeded  to  insist  that 
recourse  to  ordinary  justice  was  vain  as  well  as  sinful. 

'The  event  of  that  day  at  Westminster,'  he  said, 
'might  teach  them  that  the  man  at  Whitehall  was  even 
as  the  man  his  father';  and  he  closed  a  long  tirade 
against  the  vices  of  the  court  with  assurance  'that 
Tophet  was  ordained  of  old  —  for  the  king  it  was  made 
hot.' 

As  the  preacher  entered  on  a  description  of  the  ap- 
proaching theocracy,  which  he  dared  to  prophesy, 
Bridgenorth,  who  appeared  for  a  time  to  have  forgotten 
the  presence  of  Julian,  whilst  with  stern  and  fixed  atten- 
tion he  drank  in  the  words  of  the  preacher,  seemed  sud- 
denly to  collect  himself,  and,  taking  Julian  by  the  hand, 

351 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

led  him  out  of  the  gallery,  of  which  he  carefully  closed 
the  door,  into  an  apartment  at  no  great  distance. 

When  they  arrived  there,  he  anticipated  the  expostula- 
tions of  Julian  by  asking  him,  in  a  tone  of  severe  triumph, 
whether  these  men  he  had  seen  were  likely  to  do  their 
work  negligently,  or  whether  it  would  not  be  perilous  to 
attempt  to  force  their  way  from  a  house  when  all  the 
avenues  were  guarded  by  such  as  he  had  now  seen  — 
men  of  war  from  their  childhood  upwards. 

*  In  the  name  of  Heaven,'  said  Julian,  without  replying 
to  Bridgenorth's  question,  'for  what  desperate  purpose 
have  you  assembled  so  many  desperate  men?  I  am  well 
aware  that  your  sentiments  of  religion  are  peculiar;  but 
beware  how  you  deceive  yourself.  No  views  of  religion 
can  sanction  rebellion  and  murder;  and  such  are  the 
natural  and  necessary  consequences  of  the  doctrine  we 
have  just  heard  poured  into  the  ears  of  fanatical  and 
violent  enthusiasts.' 

'My  son,'  said  Bridgenorth,  calmly,  'in  the  days  of 
my  nonage  I  thought  as  you  do.  I  deemed  it  sufficient  to 
pay  my  tithes  of  cummin  and  anniseed  —  my  poor  petty 
moral  observances  of  the  old  law;  and  I  thought  I  was 
heaping  up  precious  things,  when  they  were  in  value  no 
more  than  the  husks  of  the  swine- trough.  Praised  be 
Heaven,  the  scales  are  fallen  from  mine  eyes,  and  after 
forty  years'  wandering  in  the  desert  of  Sinai,  I  am  at 
length  arrived  in  the  Land  of  Promise.  My  corrupt  hu- 
man nature  has  left  me:  I  have  cast  my  slough,  and  can 
now  with  some  conscience  put  my  hand  to  the  plough, 
certain  that  there  is  no  weakness  left  in  me  where- 
through I  may  look  back.  The  furrows,'  he  added,  bend- 
ing his  brows,  while  a  gloomy  fire  filled  his  large  eyes, 

352 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*must  be  drawn  long  and  deep,  and  watered  by  the  blood 
of  the  mighty.' 

There  was  a  change  in  Bridgenorth's  tone  and  manner 
when  he  used  these  singular  expressions,  which  con- 
vinced Julian  that  his  mind,  which  had  wavered  for  so 
many  years  between  his  natural  good  sense  and  the  in- 
sane enthusiasm  of  the  time,  had  finally  given  way  to 
the  latter;  and,  sensible  of  the  danger  in  which  the  un- 
happy man  himself,  the  innocent  and  beautiful  Alice, 
and  his  own  father,  were  likely  to  be  placed,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  general  risk  of  the  community  by  a  sud- 
den insurrection,  he  at  the  same  time  felt  that  there  was 
no  chance  of  reasoning  effectually  with  one  who  would 
oppose  spiritual  conviction  to  all  arguments  which  rea' 
son  could  urge  against  his  wild  schemes.  To  touch  his 
feelings  seemed  a  more  probable  resource;  and  Julian 
therefore  conjured  Bridgenorth  to  think  how  much  his 
daughter's  honour  and  safety  were  concerned  in  his 
abstaining  from  the  dangerous  course  which  he  medi- 
tated. *  If  you  fall,'  he  said,  'must  she  not  pass  under  the 
power  and  guardianship  of  her  uncle,  whom  you  allow 
to  have  shown  himself  capable  of  the  grossest  mistake  in 
the  choice  of  her  female  protectress;  and  whom  I  believe, 
upon  good  grounds,  to  have  made  that  infamous  choice 
with  his  eyes  open?' 

'Young  man,'  answered  Bridgenorth,  'you  make  me 
feel  like  the  poor  bird  around  whose  wing  some  wanton 
boy  has  fixed  a  line,  to  pull  the  struggling  wretch  to 
earth  at  his  pleasure.  Know,  since  thou  wilt  play  this 
cruel  part,  and  drag  me  down  from  higher  contempla- 
tions, that  she  with  whom  Alice  is  placed,  and  who  hath 
in  future  full  power  to  guide  her  motions  and  decide  her 

28  353 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

fate,  despite  of  Christian  and  every  one  else,  is  —  I  will 
not  tell  thee  who  she  is.  Enough  —  no  one,  thou  least  of 
all,  needs  to  fear  for  her  safety.' 

At  this  moment  a  side  door  opened,  and  Christian 
himself  came  into  the  apartment.  He  started  and 
coloured  when  he  saw  Julian  Peveril ;  then,  turning  to 
Bridgenorth  with  an  assumed  air  of  indifference,  asked, 
*Is  Saul  among  the  prophets?  Is  a  Peveril  among  the 
saints? ' 

*No,  brother,'  replied  Bridgenorth,  'his  time  is  not 
come,  more  than  thine  own:  thou  art  too  deep  in  the 
ambitious  intrigues  of  manhood,  and  he  in  the  giddy 
passions  of  youth,  to  hear  the  still  calm  voice.  You  will 
both  hear  it,  as  I  trust  and  pray.' 

'  Master  Ganlesse,  or  Christian,  or  by  whatever  name 
you  are  called,'  said  Julian,  *by  whatever  reasons  you 
guide  yourself  in  this  most  perilous  matter,  you  at  least 
are  not  influenced  by  any  idea  of  an  immediate  Divine 
command  for  commencing  hostilities  against  the  state. 
Leaving,  therefore,  for  the  present  whatever  subjects  of 
discussion  may  be  between  us,  I  implore  you,  as  a  man 
of  shrewdness  and  sense,  to  join  with  me  in  dissuading 
Master  Bridgenorth  from  the  fatal  enterprise  which  he 
now  meditates.' 

'Young  gentleman,'  said  Christian,  with  great  com- 
posure, '  when  we  met  in  the  west,  I  was  willing  to  have 
made  a  friend  of  you,  but  you  rejected  the  overture. 
You  might,  however,  even  then  have  seen  enough  of  me 
to  be  assured  that  I  am  not  likely  to  rush  too  rashly  on 
any  desperate  undertaking.  As  to  this  which  lies  before 
us,  my  brother  Bridgenorth  brings  to  it  the  simplicity, 
though  not  the  harmlessness,  of  the  dove,  and  I  the 

354 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

subtilty  of  the  serpent.  He  hath  the  leading  of  saints 
who  are  moved  by  the  Spirit;  and  I  can  add  to  their 
efforts  a  powerful  body,  who  have  for  their  instigators 
the  world,  the  devil,  and  the  flesh.' 

'And  can  you,'  said  JuHan,  looking  at  Bridgenorth, 
'accede  to  such  an  unworthy  union?' 

*I  unite  not  with  them,'  said  Bridgenorth;  'but  I  may 
not,  without  guilt,  reject  the  aid  which  Providence  sends 
to  assist  His  servants.  We  are  ourselves  few,  though 
determined.  Those  whose  swords  come  to  help  the  cut- 
ting down  of  the  harvest  must  be  welcome.  When  their 
work  is  wrought,  they  will  be  converted  or  scattered. 
Have  you  been  at  York  Place,  brother,  with  that  un- 
stable epicure?  We  must  have  his  last  resolution,  and 
that  within  an  hour.' 

Christian  looked  at  Julian,  as  if  his  presence  pre- 
vented him  from  returning  an  answer;  upon  which 
Bridgenorth  arose,  and  taking  the  young  man  by  the 
arm,  led  him  out  of  the  apartment,  into  that  in  which 
they  had  left  his  father;  assuring  him  by  the  way  that 
determined  and  vigilant  guards  were  placed  in  every 
different  quarter  by  which  escape  could  be  effected,  and 
that  he  would  do  well  to  persuade  his  father  to  remain 
a  quiet  prisoner  for  a  few  hours. 

Julian  returned  him  no  answer,  and  Bridgenorth 
presently  retired,  leaving  him  alone  with  his  father  and 
Hudson.  To  their  questions  he  could  only  briefly  reply, 
that  he  feared  they  were  trepanned,  since  they  were  in 
the  house  with  at  least  two  hundred  fanatics,  completely 
armed,  and  apparently  prepared  for  some  desperate 
enterprise.  Their  own  want  of  arms  precluded  the  pos- 
sibility of  open  violence;  and  however  unpleasant  it 

355 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

might  be  to  remain  in  such  a  condition,  it  seemed  diffi- 
cult, from  the  strength  of  the  fastenings  at  doors  and 
windows,  to  attempt  any  secret  escape  without  instant- 
aneous detection. 

The  valiant  dwarf  alone  nursed  hopes,  with  which  he 
in  vain  endeavoured  to  inspire  his  companions  in  afflic- 
tion. 'The  fair  one  whose  eyes/  he  said,  'were  like  the 
twin  stars  of  Leda '  —  for  the  little  man  was  a  great 
admirer  of  lofty  language  —  'had  not  invited  him,  the 
most  devoted,  and,  it  might  be,  not  the  least  favoured, 
of  her  servants,  into  this  place  as  a  harbour,  in  order 
that  he  might  therein  suffer  shipwreck';  and  he  gener- 
ously assured  his  friends  that  in  his  safety  they  also 
should  be  safe. 

Sir  Geoffrey,  little  cheered  by  this  intimation,  ex- 
pressed his  despair  at  not  being  able  to  get  the  length  of 
Whitehall,  where  he  trusted  to  find  as  many  jolly  Cava- 
liers as  would  help  him  to  stifle  the  whole  nest  of  wasps 
in  their  hive;  while  Julian  was  of  opinion  that  the  best 
service  he  could  now  render  Bridgenorth  would  be  time- 
ously  to  disclose  his  plot,  and,  if  possible,  to  send  him 
at  the  same  time  warning  to  save  his  person. 

But  we  must  leave  them  to  meditate  over  their  plans 
at  leisure,  no  one  of  which,  as  they  all  depended  on  their 
previous  escape  from  confinement,  seemed  in  any  great 
chance  of  being  executed. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

And  some  for  safety  took  the  dreadful  leap, 

Some  for  the  voice  of  Heaven  seem'd  calling  on  them. 

Some  for  advancement,  or  for  lucre's  sake; 

1  leap'd  in  frolic. 

The  Dream. 

After  a  private  conversation  with  Bridgenorth,  Christ- 
ian hastened  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  hotel,  taking 
at  the  same  time  such  a  route  as  to  avoid  meeting  with 
any  acquaintance.  He  was  ushered  into  the  apartment 
of  the  duke,  whom  he  found  cracking  and  eating  filberts, 
with  a  flask  of  excellent  white  wine  at  his  elbow.  *  Christ- 
ian,' said  his  Grace,  'come  help  me  to  laugh:  I  have  bit 
Sir  Charles  Sedley,  flung  him  for  a  thousand,  by  the 
gods ! ' 

*  I  am  glad  at  your  luck,  my  lord  duke,'  replied  Christ- 
ian; 'but  I  am  come  here  on  serious  business.' 

'Serious!  why,  I  shall  hardly  be  serious  in  my  life 
again  —  ha,  ha,  ha!  and  for  luck,  it  was  no  such  thing  — 
sheer  wit  and  excellent  contrivance;  and  but  that  I  don't 
care  to  afifront  Fortune,  like  the  old  Greek  general,  I 
might  tell  her  to  her  face  —  "In  this  thou  hadst  no 
share."  You  have  heard,  Ned  Christian,  that  Mother 
Cresswell  is  dead? ' 

'Yes,  I  did  hear  that  the  devil  hath  got  his  due,' 
answered  Christian. 

'Well,'  said  the  duke,  'you  are  ungrateful;  for  I  know 
you  have  been  obliged  to  her,  as  well  as  others.  Before 
George,  a  most  benevolent  and  helpful  old  lady;  and 

357 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  she  might  not  sleep  in  an  unblest  grave,  I  betted  — 
do  you  mark  me?  —  with  Sedley  that  I  would  write  her 
funeral  sermon,  that  it  should  be  every  word  in  praise  of 
her  life  and  conversation,  that  it  should  be  all  true;  and 
yet  that  the  diocesan  should  be  unable  to  lay  his  thumb 
on  Quodling,  my  little  chaplain,  who  should  preach  it.' 

*I  perfectly  see  the  difi&culty,  my  lord,'  said  Christian, 
who  well  knew  that,  if  he  wished  to  secure  attention  from 
this  volatile  nobleman,  he  must  first  suffer,  nay,  en- 
courage, him  to  exhaust  the  topic,  whatever  it  might  be, 
that  had  got  temporary  possession  of  his  pineal  gland. 

'Why,'  said  the  duke,  'I  caused  my  little  Quodling  to 
go  through  his  oration  thus:  "That  whatever  evil  re- 
ports had  passed  current  during  the  lifetime  of  the  wor- 
thy matron  whom  they  had  restored  to  dust  that  day, 
malice  itself  could  not  deny  that  she  was  born  well, 
married  well,  lived  well,  and  died  well;  since  she  was 
born  in  Shadwell,  married  to  Cresswell,  Uved  in  Cam- 
berwell,  and  died  in  Bridewell."  Here  ended  the  oration, 
and  with  it  Sedley's  ambitious  hopes  of  overreaching 
Buckingham  —  ha,  ha,  ha!  And  now.  Master  Christian, 
what  are  your  commands  for  me  to-day? ' 

*  First,  to  thank  your  Grace  for  being  so  attentive  as 
to  send  so  formidable  a  person  as  Colonel  Blood  to  wait 
upon  your  poor  friend  and  servant.  Faith,  he  took  such 
an  interest  in  my  leaving  town  that  he  wanted  to  compel 
me  to  do  it  at  point  of  fox,  so  I  was  obliged  to  spill  a  lit- 
tle of  his  malapert  blood.  Your  Grace's  swordsmen  have 
had  ill  luck  of  late;  and  it  is  hard,  since  you  always 
choose  the  best  hands,  and  such  scrupleless  knaves  too.' 

'Come  now.  Christian,'  said  the  duke,  'do  not  thus 
exult  over  me;  a  great  man,  if  I  may  so  call  myself,  is 

358 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

never  greater  than  amid  miscarriage.  I  only  played  this 
little  trick  on  you,  Christian,  to  impress  on  you  a  whole- 
some idea  of  the  interest  I  take  in  your  motions.  The 
scoundrel's  having  dared  to  draw  upon  you  is  a  thing  not 
to  be  forgiven.   What!  injure  my  old  friend  Christian?' 

'And  why  not,'  said  Christian,  coolly,  *if  your  old 
friend  was  so  stubborn  as  not  to  go  out  of  town,  like 
a  good  boy,  when  your  Grace  required  him  to  do  so, 
for  the  civil  purpose  of  entertaining  his  niece  in  his  ab- 
sence?' 

'How  —  what!  —  how  do  you  mean  by  my  entertain- 
ing your  niece.  Master  Christian?'  said  the  duke.  'She 
was  a  personage  far  beyond  my  poor  attentions,  being 
destined,  if  I  recollect  aright,  to  something  like  royal 
favour.' 

'It  was  her  fate,  however,  to  be  the  guest  of  your 
Grace's  convent  for  a  brace  of  days  or  so.  Marry,  my 
lord,  the  father  confessor  was  not  at  home,  and  —  for 
convents  have  been  scaled  of  late  —  returned  not  till  the 
bird  was  flown.' 

'  Christian,  thou  art  an  old  reynard  —  I  see  there  is  no 
doubling  with  thee.  It  was  thou,  then,  stole  away  my 
pretty  prize,  but  left  me  something  so  much  prettier  in 
my  mind  that,  had  it  not  made  itself  wings  to  fly  away 
with,  I  would  have  placed  it  in  a  cage  of  gold.  Never  be 
downcast,  man;  I  forgive  thee  —  I  forgive  thee.' 

'Your  Grace  is  of  a  most  merciful  disposition,  espe- 
cially considering  it  is  I  who  have  had  the  wrong ;  and 
sages  have  said  that  he  who  doth  the  injury  is  less  apt  to 
forgive  than  he  who  only  sustains  it.' 

'True  —  true.  Christian,'  said  the  duke,  'which,  as 
you  say,  is  something  quite  new,  and  places  my  clemency 

359 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  a  striking  point  of  view.  Well,  then,  thou  forgiven 
man,  when  shall  I  see  my  Mauritanian  princess  again?' 

'Whenever  I  am  certain  that  a  quibble,  and  a  car- 
whichet,  for  a  play  or  a  sermon,  will  not  banish  her  from 
your  Grace's  memory.' 

'Not  all  the  wit  of  South  or  of  Etherege,'  said  Bucking- 
ham, hastily,  *  to  say  nothing  of  my  own,  shall  in  future 
make  me  oblivious  of  what  I  owe  the  Morisco  princess.' 

'Yet,  to  leave  the  fair  lady  out  of  thought  for  a  little 
while  —  a  very  little  while,'  said  Christian,  'since  I 
swear  that  in  due  time  your  Grace  shall  see  her,  and 
know  in  her  the  most  extraordinary  woman  that  the  age 
has  produced  —  to  leave  her,  I  say,  out  of  sight  for  a 
little  while,  has  your  Grace  had  late  notice  of  your 
duchess's  health? ' 

'Health!'  said  the  duke.  'Umph  —  no  —  nothing 
particular.  She  has  been  ill ;  but  — ' 

'She  is  no  longer  so,'  subjoined  Christian;  'she  died  in 
Yorkshire  forty-eight  hours  since.' 

'  Thou  must  deal  with  the  devil ! '  said  the  duke. 

'It  would  ill  become  one  of  my  name  to  do  so,'  replied 
Christian.  'But,  in  the  brief  interval  since  your  Grace 
hath  known  of  an  event  which  hath  not  yet  reached  the 
public  ear,  you  have,  I  believe,  made  proposals  to  the 
King  for  the  hand  of  the  Lady  Anne,  second  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  York,  and  your  Grace's  proposals  have  been 
rejected.' 

'Fiends  and  firebrands,  villain !'  said  the  duke,  starting 
up  and  seizing  Christian  by  the  collar;  'who  hath  told 
thee  that?' 

'Take  your  hand  from  my  cloak,  my  lord  duke,  and  I 
may  answer  you,'  said  Christian.  '  I  have  a  scurvy  touch 

360 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

of  old  Puritanical  humour  about  me:  I  abide  not  the  im- 
position of  hands.  Take  ofif  your  grasp  from  my  cloak, 
or  I  will  find  means  to  make  you  unloose  it.' 

The  duke,  who  had  kept  his  right  hand  on  his  dagger- 
hilt  while  he  held  Christian's  collar  with  his  left,  un- 
loosed it  as  he  spoke,  but  slowly,  and  as  one  who  rather 
suspends  than  abandons  the  execution  of  some  hasty 
impulse;  while  Christian,  adjusting  his  cloak  with  per- 
fect composure,  said,  'Soh  —  my  cloak  being  at  liberty, 
we  speak  on  equal  terms.  I  come  not  to  insult  your 
Grace,  but  to  offer  you  vengeance  for  the  insult  you  have 
received.' 

'Vengeance!'  said  the  duke.  'It  is  the  dearest  proffer 
man  can  present  to  me  in  my  present  mood.  I  hunger  for 
vengeance  —  thirst  for  vengeance  —  would  die  to  ensure 
vengeance!  'Sdeath!'  he  continued,  walking  up  and 
down  the  large  apartment  with  the  most  unrestrained 
and  violent  agitation,  '  I  have  chased  this  repulse  out  of 
my  brain  with  ten  thousand  trifles,  because  I  thought  no 
one  knew  it.  But  it  is  known,  and  to  thee,  the  very  com- 
mon sewer  of  court  secrets;  the  honour  of  Villiers  is  in 
thy  keeping,  Ned  Christian.  Speak,  thou  man  of  wiles 
and  of  intrigue;  on  whom  dost  thou  promise  the  venge- 
ance? Speak!  and  if  thy  answers  meet  my  desires,  I  will 
make  a  bargain  with  thee  as  willingly  as  with  thy 
master,  Satan  himself.' 

'I  will  not  be,'  said  Christian,  'so  unreasonable  in  my 
terms  as  stories  tell  of  the  old  apostate:  I  will  offer  your 
Grace,  as  he  might  do,  temporal  prosperity  and  revenge, 
which  is  his  frequent  recruiting  money;  but  I  leave  it  to 
yourself  to  provide,  as  you  may  be  pleased,  for  your 
future  salvation.' 

361 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  duke,  gazing  upon  him  fixedly  and  sadly,  replied, 
*I  would  to  God,  Christian,  that  I  could  read  what  pur- 
pose of  damnable  villainy  thou  hast  to  propose  to  me  in 
thy  countenance,  without  the  necessity  of  thy  using 
words ! ' 

'Your  Grace  can  but  try  a  guess,'  said  Christian, 
calmly  smiling. 

*No,'  repHed  the  duke,  after  gazing  at  him  again  for 
the  space  of  a  minute ;  *  thou  art  so  deeply  dyed  an  hypo- 
crite, that  thy  mean  features  and  clear  grey  eye  are  as 
likely  to  conceal  treason  as  any  petty  scheme  of  theft  or 
larceny  more  corresponding  to  your  degree.' 

'Treason,  my  lord!'  echoed  Christian;  'you  may  have 
guessed  more  nearly  than  you  were  aware  of.  I  honour 
your  Grace's  penetration.' 

'Treason!'  echoed  the  duke.  'Who  dare  name  such  a 
crime  to  me? ' 

'  If  a  name  startles  your  Grace,  you  may  call  it  venge- 
ance —  vengeance  on  the  cabal  of  counsellors,  who  have 
ever  countermined  you,  in  spite  of  your  wit  and  your 
interest  with  the  King.  Vengeance  on  Arlington,  Or- 
mond  —  on  Charles  himself.' 

'No,  by  Heaven,'  said  the  duke,  resuming  his  disor- 
dered walk  through  the  apartment.  'Vengeance  on 
these  rats  of  the  privy  council,  come  at  it  as  you  will. 
But  the  King !  never  —  never.  I  have  provoked  him  a 
hundred  times,  where  he  has  stirred  me  once.  I  have 
crossed  his  path  in  state  intrigue,  rivalled  him  in  love,  had 
the  advantage  in  both,  and,  d — n  it,  he  has  forgiven  me! 
If  treason  would  put  me  in  his  throne,  I  have  no  apology 
for  it:  it  were  worse  than  bestial  ingratitude.' 

'Nobly  spoken,  my  lord,'  said  Christian;  'and  con- 
362 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

sistent  alike  with  the  obligations  under  which  your 
Grace  lies  to  Charles  Stuart  and  the  sense  you  have  ever 
shown  of  them.  But  it  signifies  not.  If  your  Grace 
patronise  not  our  enterprise,  there  is  Shaftesbury,  there 
is  Monmouth  — ' 

'Scoundrel!'  exclaimed  the  duke,  even  more  vehe- 
mently agitated  than  before,  *  think  you  that  you  shall 
carry  on  with  others  an  enterprise  which  I  have  refused? 
No,  by  every  heathen  and  every  Christian  god!  Hark 
ye,  Christian,  I  will  arrest  you  on  the  spot  —  I  will,  by 
gods  and  devils,  and  carry  you  to  unravel  your  plot  at 
Whitehall.' 

'Where  the  first  words  I  speak,'  answered  the  imper- 
turbable Christian,  'will  be  to  inform  the  privy  council 
in  what  place  they  may  find  certain  letters,  wherewith 
your  Grace  has  honoured  your  poor  vassal,  containing, 
as  I  think,  particulars  which  his  Majesty  will  read  with 
more  surprise  than  pleasure.' 

*'Sdeath,  villain!'  said  the  duke,  once  more  laying 
his  hand  on  his  poniard-hilt,  'thou  hast  me  again  at 
advantage.  I  know  not  why  I  forbear  to  poniard  you. 
where  you  stand ! ' 

'I  might  fall,  my  lord  duke,'  said  Christian,  slightly 
colouring,  and  putting  his  right  hand  into  his  bosom, 
'though  not,  I  think,  unavenged,  for  I  have  not  put  my 
person  into  this  peril  altogether  without  means  of  de- 
fence. I  might  fall,  but,  alas!  your  Grace's  correspond- 
dence  is  in  hands  which,  by  that  very  act,  would  be 
rendered  sufficiently  active  in  handing  them  to  the  King 
and  the  privy  council.  What  say  you  to  the  Moorish 
princess,  my  lord  duke?  What  if  I  have  left  her  execu- 
trix of  my  will,  with  certain  instructions  how  to  proceed 

363 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

if  I  return  not  unharmed  from  York  Place?  O,  my  lord, 
though  my  head  is  in  the  wolf's  mouth,  I  was  not  goose 
enough  to  place  it  there  without  settUng  how  many  cara- 
bines should  be  fired  on  the  wolf,  so  soon  as  my  dying 
cackle  was  heard.  Pshaw,  my  lord  duke!  you  deal  with  a 
man  of  sense  and  courage,  yet  you  speak  to  him  as  a 
child  and  a  coward.' 

The  duke  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  fixed  his  eyes 
on  the  ground,  and  spoke  without  raising  them.  *I  am 
about  to  call  Jerningham,'  he  said;  'but  fear  nothing  — 
it  is  only  for  a  draught  of  wine.  That  stuff  on  the  table 
may  be  a  vehicle  for  filberts  and  walnuts,  but  not  for 
such  communications  as  yours.  Bring  me  champagne,* 
he  said  to  the  attendant  who  answered  on  his  summons. 

The  domestic  returned,  and  brought  a  flask  of  cham- 
pagne, with  two  large  silver  cups.  One  of  them  he  filled 
for  Buckingham,  who,  contrary  to  the  usual  etiquette, 
was  always  served  first  at  home,  and  then  offered  the 
other  to  Christian,  who  declined  to  receive  it. 

The  duke  drank  off  the  large  goblet  which  was  pre- 
sented to  him,  and  for  a  moment  covered  his  forehead 
with  the  palm  of  his  hand;  then  instantly  withdrew  it^ 
and  said,  'Christian,  speak  your  errand  plainly.  We 
know  each  other.  If  my  reputation  be  in  some  degree  in 
your  hands,  you  are  well  aware  that  your  life  is  in  mine. 
Sit  down,'  he  said,  taking  a  pistol  from  his  bosom  and 
laying  it  on  the  table  —  *  sit  down,  and  let  me  hear  your 
proposal.' 

'My  lord,'  said  Christian,  smiling,  'I  shall  produce  no 
such  ultimate  argument  on  my  part,  though  possibly,  in 
time  of  need,  I  may  not  be  found  destitute  of  them.  But 
my  defence  is  in  the  situation  of  things,  and  in  the  com- 

364 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

posed  view  which,  doubtless,  your  Majesty  will  take  of 
them.' 

'Majesty!'  repeated  the  duke.  'My  good  friend 
Christian,  you  have  kept  company  with  the  Puritans  so 
long  that  you  confuse  the  ordinary  titles  of  the  court.' 

'I  know  not  how  to  apologise,'  said  Christian,  'unless 
your  Grace  will  suppose  that  I  spoke  by  prophecy.' 

'Such  as  the  devil  delivered  to  Macbeth,'  said  the 
duke,  —  again  paced  the  chamber,  and  again  seated 
himself,  and  said,  '  Be  plain.  Christian  —  speak  out  at 
once,  and  manfully,  what  is  it  you  intend? ' 

'/,'  said  Christian.  'What  should  I  do?  I  can  do 
nothing  in  such  a  matter;  but  I  thought  it  right  that 
your  Grace  should  know  that  the  godly  of  this  city  (he 
spoke  the  word  with  a  kind  of  ironical  grin)  are  impa- 
tient of  inactivity,  and  must  needs  be  up  and  doing.  My 
brother  Bridgenorth  is  at  the  head  of  all  old  Weiver's 
congregation ;  for  you  must  know  that,  after  floundering 
from  one  faith  to  another,  he  hath  now  got  beyond  ordin- 
ances, and  is  become  a  Fifth  Monarchy  man.  He  has 
nigh  two  hundred  of  Weiver's  people  fully  equipped  and 
ready  to  fall  on;  and,  with  slight  aid  from  your  Grace's 
people,  they  must  carry  Whitehall  and  make  prisoners 
of  all  within  it.' 

'Rascal ! '  said  the  duke,  'and  is  it  to  a  peer  of  England 
you  make  this  communication? ' 

'Nay,'  answered  Christian,  'I  admit  it  would  be  ex- 
treme folly  in  your  Grace  to  appear  until  all  is  over.  But 
let  me  give  Blood  and  the  others  a  hint  on  your  part. 
There  are  the  four  Germans  also  —  right  Knipper- 
dolings  and  Anabaptists  —  will  be  specially  useful.  You 
are  wise,  my  lord,  and  know  the  value  of  a  corps  of 

365 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

domestic  gladiators,  as  well  as  did  Octavius,  Lepidus, 
and  Antony,  when,  by  such  family  forces,  they  divided 
the  world  by  indenture  tripartite.' 

'Stay  —  stay,'  said  the  duke.  'Even  if  these  blood- 
hounds were  to  join  with  you  —  not  that  I  would  permit 
it  without  the  most  positive  assurances  for  the  King's 
personal  safety  —  but  say  the  villains  were  to  join,  what 
hope  have  you  of  carrying  the  court? ' 

'Bully  Tom  Armstrong,^  my  lord,  hath  promised  his 
interest  with  the  Life  Guards.  Then  there  are  my  Lord 
Shaftesbury's  brisk  boys  in  the  city  —  thirty  thousand 
on  the  holding  up  a  finger.' 

'Let  him  hold  up  both  hands,  and  if  he  count  a  hun- 
dred for  each  finger,'  said  the  duke,  'it  will  be  more  than 
I  expect.  You  have  not  spoken  to  him?' 

'Surely  not,  till  your  Grace's  pleasure  was  known. 
But,  if  he  is  not  applied  to,  there  is  the  Dutch  train, 
Hans  Snorehout's  congregation,  in  the  Strand;  there  are 
the  French  Protestants  in  Piccadilly;  there  are  the  fam- 
ily of  Levi  in  Lewkenor's  Lane,  the  Muggletonians  in 
Thames  Street  — ' 

'Ah,  faugh!  Out  upon  them  —  out  upon  them!  How 
the  knaves  will  stink  of  cheese  and  tobacco  when  they 
come  upon  action !  they  will  drown  all  the  perfumes  in 
Whitehall.  Spare  me  the  detail,  and  let  me  know,  my 
dearest  Ned,  the  sum  total  of  thy  most  odoriferous 
forces.' 

'Fifteen  hundred  men,  well  armed,'  said  Christian, 
'besides  the  rabble  that  will  rise  to  a  certainty;  they 
have  already  nearly  torn  to  pieces  the  prisoners  who 
were  this  day  acquitted  on  account  of  the  Plot.' 

»  See  Note  i8. 
366 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'All,  then,  I  understand.  And  now,  hark  ye,  most 
Christian  Christian,'  said  he,  wheeling  his  chair  full  in 
front  of  that  on  which  his  agent  was  seated,  'you  have 
told  me  many  things  to-day  —  shall  I  be  equally  com- 
municative? Shall  I  show  you  that  my  accuracy  of  in- 
formation matches  yours?  Shall  I  tell  you,  in  a  word,  why 
you  have  at  once  resolved  to  push  every  one,  from  the 
Puritan  to  the  Free-thinker,  upon  a  general  attack  of  the 
palace  at  Whitehall,  without  allowing  me,  a  peer  of  the 
realm,  time  either  to  pause  upon  or  to  prepare  for  a  step 
so  desperate?  Shall  I  tell  you  why  you  would  lead  or 
drive,  seduce  or  compel,  me  into  countenancing  your 
measures? ' 

'My  lord,  if  you  please  to  form  a  guess,'  said  Christ- 
ian, 'I  will  answer  with  all  sincerity  if  you  have  as- 
signed the  right  cause.' 

'The  Countess  of  Derby  is  this  day  arrived,  and  at- 
tends the  court  this  evening  with  hopes  of  the  kindest 
reception.  She  may  be  surprised  amid  the  melee?  Ha! 
said  I  not  right.  Master  Christian?  You,  who  pretend 
to  ofifer  me  revenge,  know  yourself  its  exquisite  sweet- 
ness.' 

'I  would  not  presume,'  said  Christian,  half  smiling, 
*to  offer  your  Grace  a  dish  without  acting  as  your  taster 
as  well  as  purveyor.' 

'That's  honestly  said,'  said  the  duke.  'Away,  then, 
my  friend.  Give  Blood  this  ring;  he  knows  it,  and  knows 
how  to  obey  him  who  bears  it.  Let  him  assemble  my 
gladiators,  as  thou  dost  most  wittily  term  my  coupe- 
jarrets.  The  old  scheme  of  the  German  music  may  be 
resorted  to,  for  I  think  thou  hast  the  instruments  ready. 
But  take  notice,  I  know  nothing  on't;  and  Rowley's 

367 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

person  must  be  safe:  I  will  hang  and  bum  on  all  hands  if 
a  hair  of  his  black  periwig  ^  be  but  singed.  Then  what 
is  to  follow  —  a  Lord  Protector  of  the  realm ;  or  stay 
—  Cromwell  has  made  the  word  somewhat  slovenly 
and  unpopular  —  a  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  kingdom? 
The  patriots  who  take  it  on  themselves  to  revenge  the 
injustice  done  to  the  country,  and  to  remove  evil  coun- 
sellors from  before  the  King's  throne,  that  it  may  be 
henceforward  established  in  righteousness  —  so  I  think 
the  rubric  runs  —  cannot  fail  to  make  a  fitting  choice.' 

'They  cannot,  my  lord  duke,'  said  Christian,  'since 
there  is  but  one  man  in  the  three  kingdoms  on  whom 
that  choice  can  possibly  fall.' 

'I  thank  you.  Christian,'  said  his  Grace;  'and  I  trust 
you.  Away,  and  make  all  ready.  Be  assured  your 
services  shall  not  be  forgot.  We  will  have  you  near  to 
us.' 

'My  lord  duke,'  said  Christian,  'you  bind  me  doubly 
to  you.  But  remember,  that  as  your  Grace  is  spared  any 
obnoxious  proceedings  which  may  befall  in  the  way  of 
military  execution  or  otherwise,  so  it  will  be  advisable 
that  you  hold  yourself  in  preparation,  upon  a  moment's 
notice,  to  put  yourself  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  honour- 
able friends  and  allies,  and  come  presently  to  the  palace, 
where  you  will  be  received  by  the  victors  as  a  com- 
mander and  by  the  vanquished  as  a  preserver.' 

'  I  conceive  you  —  I  conceive  you.  I  will  be  in  prompt 
readiness,'  said  the  duke. 

'Ay,  my  lord,'  continued  Christian;  'and,  for  Heav- 
en's sake,  let  none  of  those  toys,  which  are  the  very 
Dalilahs  of  your  imagination,  come  across  your  Grace 

1  See  Note  19. 
368 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

this  evening,  and  interfere  with  the  execution  of  this 
sublime  scheme.' 

'Why,  Christian,  dost  think  me  mad?'  was  his 
Grace's  emphatic  reply.  *  It  is  you  who  linger,  when  all 
should  be  ordered  for  a  deed  so  daring.  Go  then.  But 
hark  ye,  Ned;  ere  you  go,  tell  me  when  I  shall  again  see 
yonder  thing  of  fire  and  air  —  yon  Eastern  Peri,  that 
glides  into  apartments  by  the  key-hole,  and  leaves  them 
through  the  casement  —  yon  black-eyed  houri  of  the 
Mahometan  paradise  —  when,  I  say,  shall  I  see  her  once 
more?' 

*  When  your  Grace  has  the  truncheon  of  Lord  Lieuten- 
ant of  the  kingdom,'  said  Christian,  and  left  the  apart- 
ment. 

Buckingham  stood  fixed  in  contemplation  for  a  mo- 
ment after  he  was  gone.  '  Should  I  have  done  this? '  he 
said,  arguing  the  matter  with  himself;  *or  had  I  the 
choice,  rather,  of  doing  aught  else?  Should  I  not  hasten 
to  the  court  and  make  Charles  aware  of  the  treason 
which  besets  him?  I  will,  by  Heaven!  Here,  Jerning- 
ham,  my  coach,  with  the  despatch  of  light!  I  will  throw 
myself  at  his  feet,  and  tell  him  of  all  the  follies  which  I 
have  dreamed  of  with  this  Christian.  And  then  he  will 
laugh  at  me  and  spurn  me?  No,  I  have  kneeled  to  him 
to-day  already,  and  my  repulse  was  nothing  gentle.  To 
be  spurned  once  in  the  sun's  daily  round  is  enough  for 
Buckingham.' 

Having  made  this  reflection,  he  seated  himself,  and 
began  hastily  to  mark  down  the  young  nobles  and  gen- 
tlemen of  quality,  and  others  their  very  ignoble  com- 
panions, who,  he  supposed,  might  be  likely  to  assume 
him  for  their  leader  in  any  popular  disturbance.  He  had 

-  28  369 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

1 
nearly  completed  it,  when  Jernmgham  entered  to  say 

the  coach  would  be  ready  in  an  instant,  and  to  bring  his 

master's  sword,  hat,  and  cloak. 

'Let  the  coachman  draw  off,'  said  the  duke,  'but  be  in 
readiness.  And  send  to  the  gentlemen  thou  wilt  find 
named  in  this  list;  say  I  am  but  ill  at  ease,  and  wish  their 
company  to  a  slight  collation.  Let  instant  expedition  be 
made,  and  care  not  for  expense;  you  will  find  most  of 
them  at  the  Club-House  in  Fuller's  Rents.'  ^ 

The  preparations  for  festivity  were  speedily  made, 
and  the  intended  guests,  most  of  them  persons  who  were 
at  leisure  for  any  call  that  promised  pleasure,  though 
sometimes  more  deaf  to  those  of  duty,  began  speedily  to 
assemble.  There  were  many  youths  of  the  highest  rank, 
and  with  them,  as  is  usual  in  those  circles,  many  of  a 
different  class,  whom  talents,  or  impudence,  or  wit,  or 
a  turn  for  gambling,  had  reared  up  into  companions  for 
the  great  and  the  gay.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham  was 
a  general  patron  of  persons  of  this  description;  and  a 
numerous  attendance  took  place  on  the  present  occasion. 

The  festivity  was  pursued  with  the  usual  appliances  of 
wine,  music,  and  games  of  hazard,  with  which,  however, 
there  mingled  in  that  period  much  more  wit,  and  a  good 
deal  more  gross  profligacy  of  conversation,  than  the 
talents  of  the  present  generation  can  supply,  or  their 
taste  would  permit. 

The  duke  himself  proved  the  complete  command 
which  he  possessed  over  his  versatile  character,  by  main- 
taining the  frolic,  the  laugh,  and  the  jest,  while  his  ear 
caught  up,  and  with  eagerness,  the  most  distant  sounds, 
as  intimating  the  commencement  of  Christian's  revolu- 
*  See  Note  20. 
370  . 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

tionary  project.  Such  sounds  were  heard  from  time  to 
time,  and  from  time  to  time  they  died  away,  without  any 
of  those  consequences  which  Buckingham  expected. 

At  length,  and  when  it  was  late  in  the  evening,  Jern- 
ingham  announced  Master  Chiffinch  from  the  court,  and 
that  worthy  personage  followed  the  annunciation. 

'Strange  things  have  happened,  my  lord  duke,'  he 
said;  'your  presence  at  court  is  instantly  required  by  his 
Majesty.' 

'You  alarm  me,'  said  Buckingham,  standing  up.  'I 
hope  nothing  has  happened  —  I  hope  there  is  nothing 
wrong  —  I  hope  his  Majesty  is  well?' 

'Perfectly  well,'  said  Chiffinch;  'and  desirous  to  see 
your  Grace  without  a  moment's  delay.' 

'This  is  sudden,'  said  the  duke.  'You  see  I  have  had 
merry  fellows  about  me,  and  am  scarce  in  case  to  appear, 
Chiffinch.' 

'Your  Grace  seems  to  be  in  very  handsome  plight,* 
said  Chiffinch;  'and  you  know  his  Majesty  is  gracious 
enough  to  make  allowances.' 

'True,'  said  the  duke,  not  a  little  anxious  in  his 
mind  touching  the  cause  of  this  unexpected  summons 
—  '  true,  his  Majesty  is  most  gracious.  I  will  order  my 
coach.' 

'Mine  is  below,'  rephed  the  royal  messenger;  'it  will 
save  time,  if  your  Grace  will  condescend  to  use  it.' 

Forced  from  every  evasion,  Buckingham  took  a  goblet 
from  the  table,  and  requested  his  friends  to  remain  at  his 
palace  so  long  as  they  could  find  the  means  of  amuse- 
ment there.  'He  expected,'  he  said,  'to  return  almost 
immediately;  if  not,  he  would  take  farewell  of  them  with 
his  usual  toast,  "  May  all  of  us  that  are  not  hanged  in  the 

371 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

interval  meet  together  again  here  on  the  first  Monday  of 
next  month." ' 

This  standing  toast  of  the  duke  bore  reference  to  the 
character  of  several  of  his  guests ;  but  he  did  not  drink  it 
on  the  present  occasion  without  some  anticipation  con- 
cerning his  own  fate,  in  case  Christian  had  betrayed  him. 
He  hastily  made  some  addition  to  his  dress,  and  at- 
tended Chifi&nch  in  the  chariot  to  Whitehall. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

High  feasting  was  there  there:  the  gilded  roofs 
Rung  to  the  wassail-health;  the  dancer's  step 
Sprung  to  the  chord  responsive;  the  gay  gamestei 
To  fate's  disposal  flung  his  heap  of  gold, 
And  laugh'd  alike  when  it  increased  or  lessen'd; 
Such  virtue  hath  court  air  to  teach  us  patience. 
Which  schoolmen  preach  in  vain. 

Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  f  ■ 

Upon  the  afternoon  of  this  eventful  day,  Charles  held  his 
court  in  the  Queen's  apartments,  which  were  opened  at 
a  particular  hour  to  invited  guests  of  a  certain  lower 
degree,  but  accessible  without  restriction  to  the  higher 
classes  of  nobility  who  had  from  birth,  and  to  the  court- 
iers who  held  by  office,  the  privilege  of  the  entree. 

It  was  one  part  of  Charles's  character,  which  unques- 
tionably rendered  him  personally  popular,  and  post- 
poned to  a  subsequent  reign  the  precipitation  of  his  fam- 
ily from  the  throne,  that  he  banished  from  his  court 
many  of  the  formal  restrictions  with  which  it  was  in 
other  reigns  surrounded.  He  was  conscious  of  the  good- 
natured  grace  of  his  manners,  and  trusted  to  it,  often  not 
in  vain,  to  remove  evil  impressions  arising  from  actions 
which  he  was  sensible  could  not  be  justified  on  the 
grounds  of  hberal  or  national  policy. 

In  the  daytime  the  King  was  commonly  seen  in  the 
public  walks  alone,  or  only  attended  by  one  or  two  per- 
sons; and  his  answer  to  the  remonstrance  of  his  brother, 
on  the  risk  of  thus  exposing  his  person,  is  well  known. 
'Believe  me,  James,'  he  said,  'no  one  will  murder  me  to 
make  you  king.' 

373 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

In  the  same  manner,  Charles's  evenings,  unless  such 
as  were  destined  to  more  secret  pleasures,  were  fre- 
quently spent  amongst  all  who  had  any  pretence  to  ap- 
proach a  courtly  circle,  and  thus  it  was  upon  the  night 
which  we  are  treating  of.  Queen  Catherine,  reconciled  or 
humbled  to  her  fate,  had  long  ceased  to  express  any  feel- 
ings of  jealousy,  nay,  seemed  so  absolutely  dead  to  such 
a  passion,  that  she  received  at  her  drawing-room,  with- 
out scruple,  and  even  with  encouragement,  the  Duchesses 
of  Portsmouth  and  Cleveland,  and  others,  who  enjoyed, 
though  in  a  less  avowed  character,  the  credit  of  having 
been  royal  favourites.  Constraint  of  every  kind  was 
banished  from  a  circle  so  composed,  and  which  was  fre- 
quented at  the  same  time,  if  not  by  the  wisest,  at  least 
by  the  wittiest,  courtiers  who  ever  assembled  round  a 
monarch,  and  who,  as  many  of  them  had  shared  the 
wants,  and  shifts,  and  frolics  of  his  exile,  had  then  ac- 
quired a  sort  of  prescriptive  hcense,  which  the  good- 
natured  prince,  when  he  attained  his  period  of  prosper- 
ity, could  hardly  have  restrained  had  it  suited  his  temper 
to  do  so.  This,  however,  was  the  least  of  Charles's 
thoughts.  His  manners  were  such  as  secured  him  from 
indelicate  obtrusion ;  and  he  sought  no  other  protection 
from  over-familiarity  than  what  these  and  his  ready  wit 
afforded  him. 

On  the  present  occasion,  he  was  peculiarly  disposed  to 
enjoy  the  scene  of  pleasure  which  had  been  prepared. 
The  singular  death  of  Major  Coleby,  which,  taking  place 
in  his  own  presence,  had  proclaimed,  with  the  voice  of 
a  passing  bell,  the  ungrateful  neglect  of  the  prince  for 
whom  he  had  sacrificed  everything,  had  given  Charles 
much  pain.   But,  in  his  own  opinion  at  least,  he  had 

374 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

completely  atoned  for  this  negligence  by  the  trouble 
which  he  had  taken  for  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  and  his  son, 
whose  liberation  he  looked  upon  not  only  as  an  excellent 
good  deed  in  itself,  but,  in  spite  of  the  grave  rebuke  of 
Ormond,  as  achieved  in  a  very  pardonable  manner,  con- 
sidering the  difficulties  with  which  he  was  surrounded. 
He  even  felt  a  degree  of  satisfaction  on  receiving  intel- 
ligence from  the  city  that  there  had  been  disturbances  in 
the  streets,  and  that  some  of  the  more  violent  fanatics 
had  betaken  themselves  to  their  meeting-houses,  upon 
sudden  summons,  to  inquire,  as  their  preachers  phrased 
it,  into  the  causes  of  Heaven's  wrath,  and  into  the  back- 
sliding of  the  court,  lawyers,  and  jury,  by  whom  the  false 
and  bloody  favourers  of  the  Popish  Plot  were  screened 
and  cloaked  from  deserved  punishment. 

The  King,  we  repeat,  seemed  to  hear  these  accounts 
with  pleasure,  even  when  he  was  reminded  of  the  dan- 
gerous and  susceptible  character  of  those  with  whom 
such  suspicions  originated.  'Will  any  one  now  assert,' 
he  said,  with  self-complacence,  'that  I  am  so  utterly 
negligent  of  the  interest  of  friends?  You  see  the  peril  in 
which  I  place  myself,  and  even  the  risk  to  which  I  have 
exposed  the  pubhc  peace,  to  rescue  a  man  whom  I  have 
scarce  seen  for  twenty  years,  and  then  only  in  his  buff- 
coat  and  bandeliers,  with  other  train-band  ofl&cers  who 
kissed  hands  upon  the  Restoration.  They  say  kings 
have  long  hands;  I  think  they  have  as  much  occasion  for 
long  memories,  since  they  are  expected  to  watch  over 
and  reward  every  man  in  England  who  hath  but  shown 
his  good-will  by  crying,  "God  save  the  King!'" 

'Nay,  the  rogues  are  even  more  unreasonable  still,' 
said  Sedley;  'for  every  knave  of  them  thinks  himself 

375 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

entitled  to  your  Majesty's  protection  in  a  good  cause, 
whether  he  has  cried  "God  save  the  King"  or  no.' 

The  King  smiled,  and  turned  to  another  part  of  the 
stately  hall,  where  everything  was  assembled  which 
could,  according  to  the  taste  of  the  age,  make  the  time 
glide  pleasantly  away. 

In  one  place,  a  group  of  the  young  nobility  and  of  the 
ladies  of  the  court  Hstened  to  the  reader's  acquaintance, 
Empson,  who  was  accompanying,  with  his  unrivalled 
breathings  on  the  flute,  a  young  siren,  who,  while  her 
bosom  palpitated  with  pride  and  with  fear,  warbled  to 
the  courtly  and  august  presence  the  beautiful  air,  begin- 
ning, 

*  Young  I  am,  and  yet  unskill'd 
How  to  make  a  lover  yield,'  etc. 

She  performed  her  task  in  a  manner  so  corresponding 
with  the  strains  of  the  amatory  poet  and  the  voluptuous 
air  with  which  the  words  had  been  invested  by  the  cele- 
brated Purcel,  that  the  men  crowded  around  in  ecstasies, 
while  most  of  the  ladies  thought  it  proper  either  to  look 
extremely  indifferent  to  the  words  she  sung  or  to  with- 
draw from  the  circle  as  quietly  as  possible.  To  the  song 
succeeded  a  concerto,  performed  by  a  select  band  of 
most  admirable  musicians,  which  the  King,  whose  taste 
was  indisputable,  had  himself  selected. 

At  other  tables  in  the  apartment  the  elder  courtiers 
worshipped  fortune,  at  the  various  fashionable  games  of 
ombre,  quadrille,  hazard,  and  the  like;  while  heaps  of 
gold  which  lay  before  the  players  augmented  or  dwin- 
dled with  every  turn  of  a  card  or  cast  of  a  die.  Many  a 
year's  rent  of  fair  estates  was  ventured  upon  the  main 
or  the  odds,  which,  spent  in  the  old  deserted  manor- 

376 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

house,  had  repaired  the  ravages  of  Cromwell  upon  its 
walls,  and  replaced  the  sources  of  good  housekeeping  and 
hospitality,  that,  exhausted  in  the  last  age  by  fine  and 
sequestration,  were  now  in  a  fair  way  of  being  annihil- 
ated by  careless  prodigality.  Elsewhere,  under  cover  of 
observing  the  gamester  or  listening  to  the  music,  the 
gallantries  of  that  all-licensed  age  were  practised  among 
the  gay  and  fair,  closely  watched  the  whilst  by  the  ugly 
or  the  old,  who  promised  themselves  at  least  the  pleasure 
of  observing,  and  it  may  be  that  of  proclaiming,  intrigues 
in  which  they  could  not  be  sharers. 

From  one  table  to  another  glided  the  merry  monarch, 
exchanging  now  a  glance  with  a  court  beauty,  now  a  jest 
with  a  court  wit,  now  beating  time  to  the  music,  and 
anon  losing  or  winning  a  few  pieces  of  gold  on  the  chance 
of  the  game  to  which  he  stood  nearest  —  the  most  ami- 
able of  voluptuaries,  the  gayest  and  best-natured  of 
companions,  the  man  that  would,  of  all  others,  have  best 
sustained  his  character,  had  life  been  a  continued  ban- 
quet, and  its  only  end  to  enjoy  the  passing  hour  and  send 
it  away  as  pleasantly  as  might  be. 

But  kings  are  least  of  all  exempted  from  the  ordin- 
ary lot  of  humanity;  and  Seged  of  Ethiopia  is,  amongst 
monarchs,  no  solitary  example  of  the  vanity  of  reckoning 
on  a  day  or  an  hour  of  undisturbed  serenity.  An  attend- 
ant on  the  court  announced  suddenly  to  their  Majesties 
that  a  lady,  who  would  only  announce  herself  as  a 
peeress  of  England,  desired  to  be  admitted  into  the 
presence. 

The  Queen  said,  hastily,  'It  was  impossible.  No 
peeress,  without  announcing  her  title,  was  entitled  to  the 
privilege  of  her  rank.' 

377 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  could  be  sworn,'  said  a  nobleman  in  attendance, 
*  that  it  is  some  whim  of  the  Duchess  of  Newcastle.' 

The  attendant  who  brought  the  message  said  that '  He 
did  indeed  believe  it  to  be  the  duchess,  both  from  the 
singularity  of  the  message  and  that  the  lady  spoke  with 
somewhat  a  foreign  accent.' 

'  In  the,  name  of  madness,  then,'  said  the  King, '  let  us 
admit  her.  Her  Grace  is  an  entire  raree-show  in  her  own 
person  —  a  universal  masquerade  —  indeed,  a  sort  of 
private  Bedlam  Hospital,  her  whole  ideas  being  like  so 
many  patients  crazed  upon  the  subjects  of  love  and 
literature,  who  act  nothing  in  their  vagaries  save 
Minerva,  Venus,  and  the  nine  Muses.' 

'Your  Majesty's  pleasure  must  always  supersede 
mine,'  said  the  Queen.  *I  only  hope  I  shall  not  be  ex- 
pected to  entertain  so  fantastic  a  personage.  The  last 
time  she  came  to  court,  Isabella  (she  spoke  to  one  of  her 
Portuguese  ladies  of  honour),  you  had  not  returned  from 
our  lovely  Lisbon  —  her  Grace  had  the  assurance  to 
assume  a  right  to  bring  a  train-bearer  into  my  apart- 
ment; and  when  this  was  not  allowed,  what  then,  think 
you,  she  did?  Even  caused  her  train  to  be  made  so  long 
that  three  mortal  yards  of  satin  and  silver  remained  in 
the  ante-chamber,  supported  by  four  wenches,  while  the 
other  end  was  attached  to  her  Grace's  person,  as  she 
paid  her  duty  at  the  upper  end  of  the  presence-room. 
Full  thirty  yards  of  the  most  beautiful  silk  did  her 
Grace's  madness  employ  in  this  manner.' 

'And  most  beautiful  damsels  they  were  who  bore  this 
portentous  train,'  said  the  King  —  *a  train  never 
equalled  save  by  that  of  the  great  comet  in  sixty-six. 
Sedley  and  Etherege  told  us  wonders  of  them ;  for  it  is 

378 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

one  advantage  of  this  new  fashion  brought  up  by  the 
duchess,  that  a  matron  may  be  totally  unconscious  of 
the  coquetry  of  her  train  and  its  attendants.' 

*  Am  I  to  understand,  then,  your  Majesty's  pleasure  is 
that  the  lady  is  to  be  admitted? '  said  the  usher. 

*  Certainly,'  said  the  King; '  that  is,  if  the  incognito  be 
really  entitled  to  the  honour.  It  may  be  as  well  to  in- 
quire her  title;  there  are  more  madwomen  abroad  than 
the  Duchess  of  Newcastle.  I  will  walk  into  the  ante- 
room myself  and  receive  your  answer.' 

But,  ere  Charles  had  reached  the  lower  end  of  the 
apartment  in  his  progress  to  the  ante-room,  the  usher 
surprised  the  assembly  by  announcing  a  name  which  had 
not  for  many  a  year  been  heard  in  these  courtly  halls  — • 
'The  Countess  of  Derby.' 

Stately  and  tall,  and  still,  at  an  advanced  period  of 
life,  having  a  person  unbroken  by  years,  the  noble  lady 
advanced  towards  her  sovereign  with  a  step  resembling 
that  with  which  she  might  have  met  an  equal.  There 
was,  indeed,  nothing  in  her  manner  that  indicated  either 
haughtiness  or  assumption  unbecoming  that  presence; 
but  her  consciousness  of  wrongs  sustained  from  the 
administration  of  Charles,  and  of  the  superiority  of  the 
injured  party  over  those  from  whom,  or  in  whose  name, 
the  injury  had  been  offered,  gave  her  look  dignity  and 
her  step  firmness.  She  was  dressed  in  widow's  weeds,  of 
the  same  fashion  which  were  worn  at  the  time  her  hus- 
band was  brought  to  the  scaffold,  and  which,  in  the 
thirty  years  subsequent  to  that  event,  she  had  never 
permitted  her  tirewoman  to  alter. 

The  surprise  was  no  pleasing  one  to  the  King;  and 
cursing  in  his  heart  the  rashness  which  had  allowed  the 

379 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lady  entrance  on  the  gay  scene  in  which  they  were  en- 
gaged, he  saw  at  the  same  time  the  necessity  of  receiving 
her  in  a  manner  suitable  to  his  own  character  and  her 
rank  in  the  British  court.  He  approached  her  with  an  air 
of  welcome,  into  which  he  threw  all  his  natural  grace, 
while  he  began,  'Chere  Comptesse  de  Derby,  puissante 
Reine  de  Man,  notre  tres  auguste  sceur  — ' 

'  Speak  English,,  sire,  if  I  may  presume  to  ask  such 
a  favour,'  said  the  countess.  *I  am  a  peeress  of  this 
nation,  mother  to  one  English  earl,  and  widow,  alas,  to 
another!  In  England  I  have  spent  my  brief  days  of  hap- 
piness, my  long  years  of  widowhood  and  sorrow.  France 
and  its  language  are  but  to  me  the  dreams  of  an  unin- 
teresting childhood.  I  know  no  tongue  save  that  of  my 
husband  and  my  son.  Permit  me,  as  the  widow  and 
mother  of  Derby,  thus  to  render  my  homage.' 

She  would  have  kneeled,  but  the  King  gracefully  pre- 
vented her,  and,  saluting  her  cheek,  according  to  the 
form,  led  her  towards  the  Queen,  and  himself  performed 
the  ceremony  of  introduction.  'Your  Majesty,'  he  said, 
'must  be  informed  that  the  countess  has  imposed  a  re- 
striction on  French,  the  language  of  gallantry  and  com- 
pliment. I  trust  your  Majesty  will,  though  a  foreigner 
like  herself,  find  enough  of  honest  English  to  assure  the 
Countess  of  Derby  with  what  pleasure  we  see  her  at 
court  after  the  absence  of  so  many  years.' 

*I  will  endeavour  to  do  so  at  least,'  said  the  Queen,  on 
whom  the  appearance  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  made  a 
more  favourable  impression  than  that  of  many  strangers 
whom,  at  the  King's  request,  she  was  in  the  habit  of 
receiving  with  courtesy. 

Charles  himself  again  spoke.   'To  any  other  lady  of 

380 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

the  same  rank  I  might  put  the  question,  why  she  was  so 
long  absent  from  the  circle.  I  fear  I  can  only  ask  the 
Countess  of  Derby  what  fortunate  cause  produces  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  her  here  ?' 

'No  fortunate  cause,  my  liege,  though  one  most 
strong  and  urgent.' 

The  King  augured  nothing  agreeable  from  this  com- 
mencement; and  in  truth,  from  the  countess's  first 
entrance,  he  had  anticipated  some  unpleasant  explana- 
tion, which  he  therefore  hastened  to  parry,  having  first 
composed  his  features  into  an  expression  of  sympathy 
and  interest. 

'If,'  said  he,  'the  cause  is  of  a  nature  in  which  we 
can  render  assistance,  we  cannot  expect  your  ladyship 
should  enter  upon  it  at  the  present  time;  but  a  memorial 
addressed  to  our  secretary,  or,  if  it  is  more  satisfactory, 
to  ourselves  directly,  will  receive  our  immediate,  and, 
I  trust  I  need  not  add,  our  favourable,  construction.' 

The  countess  bowed  with  some  state,  and  answered, 
'My  business,  sire,  is  indeed  important;  but  so  brief, 
that  it  need  not  for  more  than  a  few  minutes  withdraw 
your  ear  from  what  is  more  pleasing;  yet  it  is  so  urgent, 
that  I  am  afraid  to  postpone  it  even  for  a  moment.' 

'This  is  unusual,'  said  Charles.  'But  you.  Countess 
of  Derby,  are  an  unwonted  guest,  and  must  command 
my  time.   Does  the  matter  require  my  private  ear? ' 

'For  my  part,'  said  the  countess,  'the  whole  court 
might  listen;  but  your  Majesty  may  prefer  hearing  me 
in  the  presence  of  one  or  two  of  your  counsellors.' 

'Ormond,'  said  the  King,  looking  around,  'attend  us 
for  an  instant;  and  do  you,  Arlington,  do  the  same.' 

The  King  led  the  way  into  an  adjoining  cabinet,  and, 

381 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

seating  himself,  requested  the  countess  would  also  take 
a  chair. 

*It  needs  not,  sire,'  she  replied;  then  pausing  for  a 
moment,  as  if  to  collect  her  spirits,  she  proceeded  with 
firmness.  '  Your  Majesty  well  said  that  no  light  cause  ^ 
had  drawn  me  from  my  lonely  habitation.  I  came  not 
hither  when  the  property  of  my  son  —  that  property 
which  descended  to  him  from  a  father  who  died  for  your 
Majesty's  rights  —  was  conjured  away  from  him  under 
pretext  of  justice,  that  it  might  first  feed  the  avarice  of 
the  rebel  Fairfax  and  then  supply  the  prodigality  of  his 
son-in-law,  Buckingham.' 

'These  are  over  harsh  terms,  lady,'  said  the  King. 
*A  legal  penalty  was,  as  we  remember,  incurred  by  an 
act  of  irregular  violence ;  so  our  courts  and  our  laws  term 
it,  though  personally  I  have  no  objection  to  call  it,  with 
you,  an  honourable  revenge.  But  admit  it  were  such, 
in  prosecution  of  the  laws  of  honour,  bitter  legal  conse- 
quences are  often  necessarily  incurred.' 

'  I  come  not  to  argue  for  my  son's  wasted  and  forfeited 
inheritance,  sire,'  said  the  countess;  'I  only  take  credit 
for  my  patience  under  that  alSlicting  dispensation.  I 
now  come  to  redeem  the  honour  of  the  house  of  Derby, 
more  dear  to  me  than  all  the  treasures  and  lands  which 
ever  belonged  to  it.' 

*  And  by  whom  is  the  honour  of  the  house  of  Derby 
impeached?'  said  the  King;  'for,  on  my  word,  you  bring 
me  the  first  news  of  it.' 

'Has  there  one  Narrative,  as  these  wild  fictions  are 
termed,  been  printed  with  regard  to  the  Popish  Plot  — 
this  pretended  plot,  as  I  will  call  it  —  in  which  the  hon- 
our of  our  house  has  not  been  touched  and  tainted?  And 

382 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

are  there  not  two  noble  gentlemen,  father  and  son,  allies 
of  the  house  of  Stanley,  about  to  be  placed  in  jeopardy 
of  their  lives  on  account  of  matters  in  which  we  are  the 
parties  first  impeached? ' 

The  King  looked  around  and  smiled  to  Arlington  and 
Ormond.  'The  countess's  courage,  methinks,  shames 
ours.  What  lips  dared  have  called  the  immaculate  Plot 
pretended,  or  the  Narrative  of  the  witnesses,  our  pre- 
servers from  Popish  knives,  a  wild  fiction?  But,  madam,' 
he  said,  '  though  I  admire  the  generosity  of  your  inter- 
ference in  behalf  of  the  two  Peverils,  I  must  acquaint 
you  that  your  interference  is  unnecessary :  they  are  this 
morning  acquitted.' 

*  Now  may  God  be  praised ! '  said  the  countess,  folding 
her  hands.  '  I  have  scarce  slept  since  I  heard  the  news  of 
their  impeachment;  and  have  arrived  here  to  surrender 
myself  to  your  Majesty's  justice,  or  to  the  prejudices  of 
the  nation,  in  hopes,  by  so  doing,  I  might  at  least  save 
the  lives  of  my  noble  and  generous  friends,  enveloped 
in  suspicion  only,  or  chiefly,  by  their  connexion  with  us. 
Are  they  indeed  acquitted?' 

'They  are,  by  my  honour/  said  the  King.  'I  marvel 
you  heard  it  not.' 

*  I  arrived  but  last  night,  and  remained  in  the  strictest 
seclusion,'  said  the  countess,  'afraid  to  make  any  in- 
quiries that  might  occasion  discovery  ere  I  saw  your 
Majesty.' 

'And  now  that  we  have  met,'  said  the  King,  taking  her 
hand  kindly  —  'a  meeting  which  gives  me  the  greatest 
pleasure  —  may  I  recommend  to  you  speedily  to  return 
to  your  royal  island  with  as  little  eclat  as  you  came 
hither?  The  world,  my  dear  countess,  has  changed  since 

383 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

we  were  young.  Men  fought  in  the  Civil  War  with  good 
swords  and  muskets ;  but  now  we  fight  with  indictments 
and  oaths,  and  such-like  legal  weapons.  You  are  no 
adept  in  such  warfare ;  and  though  I  am  well  aware  you 
know  how  to  hold  out  a  castle,  I  doubt  much  if  you  have 
the  art  to  parry  off  an  impeachment.  This  Plot  has  come 
upon  us  like  a  land  storm ;  there  is  no  steering  the  vessel 
in  the  teeth  of  the  tempest,  we  must  run  for  the  nearest 
haven,  and  happy  if  we  can  reach  one.' 

'  This  is  cowardice,  my  liege,'  said  the  countess.  '  For- 
give the  word!  it  is  but  a  woman  who  speaks  it.  Call 
your  noble  friends  around  you,  and  make  a  stand  Hke 
your  royal  father.  There  is  but  one  right  and  one  wrong 
—  one  honourable  and  forward  course ;  and  all  others 
which  deviate  are  oblique  and  unworthy.' 

'Your  language,  my  venerated  friend,'  said  Ormond, 
who  saw  the  necessity  of  interfering  betwixt  the  dignity 
of  the  actual  sovereign  and  the  freedom  of  the  countess, 
who  was  generally  accustomed  to  receive,  not  to  pay, 
observance  —  'your  language  is  strong  and  decided,  but 
it  applies  not  to  the  times.  It  might  occasion  a  renewal 
of  the  Civil  War  and  of  all  its  miseries,  but  could  hardly 
be  attended  with  the  effects  you  sanguinely  anticipate.' 

'You  are  too  rash,  my  lady  countess,'  said  ArHngton, 
'  not  only  to  rush  upon  this  danger  yourself,  but  to  desire 
to  involve  his  Majesty.  Let  me  say  plainly  that,  in  this 
jealous  time,  you  have  done  but  ill  to  exchange  the  se- 
curity of  Castle  Rushin  for  the  chance  of  a  lodging  in  the 
Tower  of  London.' 

'And  were  I  to  kiss  the  block  there,'  said  the  countess, 
'as  did  my  husband  at  Bolton-on-the-Moors,  I  would  do 
so  willingly,  rather  than  forsake  a  friend !  and  one,  too, 

384 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

whom,  as  in  the  case  of  the  younger  Peveril,  I  have 
thrust  upon  danger.' 

*  But  have  I  not  assured  you  that  both  of  the  Peverils, 
elder  and  younger,  are  freed  from  peril?'  said  the  King; 
'and,  my  dear  countess,  what  can  else  tempt  you  to 
thrust  yourself  on  danger,  from  which,  doubtless,  you 
expect  to  be  relieved  by  my  intervention?  Methinks  a 
lady  of  your  judgment  should  not  voluntarily  throw  her- 
self into  a  river,  merely  that  her  friends  might  have  the 
risk  and  merit  of  dragging  her  out.' 

The  countess  reiterated  her  intention  to  claim  a  fair 
trial.  The  two  counsellors  again  pressed  their  advice 
that  she  should  withdraw,  though  under  the  charge  of 
absconding  from  justice,  and  remain  in  her  own  feudal 
kingdom. 

The  King,  seeing  no  termination  to  the  debate,  gently 
reminded  the  countess  that  her  Majesty  would  be  jealous 
if  he  detained  her  ladyship  longer,  and  offered  her  his 
hand  to  conduct  her  back  to  the  company.  This  she  was 
under  the  necessity  of  accepting,  and  returned  accord- 
ingly to  the  apartments  of  state,  where  an  event  oc- 
curred immediately  afterwards  which  must  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  next  chapter. 


I 


CHAPTER  XL VI 


Here  stand  I  tight  and  trim, 

Quick  of  eye.  though  little  of  limb; 

He  who  denieth  the  word  I  have  spoken,' 

Betwixt  him  and  me  shall  lances  be  broken. 

Lay  oj  the  Little  John  de  Saintrt. 


When  Charles  had  re-conducted  the  Countess  of  Derby 
into  the  presence-chamber,  before  he  parted  with  her, 
he  entreated  her,  in  a  whisper,  to  be  governed  by  good 
counsel,  and  to  regard  her  own  safety;  and  then  turned 
easily  from  her,  as  if  to  distribute  his  attentions  equally 
among  the  other  guests. 

These  were  a  good  deal  circumscribed  at  the  instant  by 
the  arrival  of  a  party  of  five  or  six  musicians,  one  of 
whom,  a  German,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  was  particularly  renowned  for  his  perform- 
ance on  the  violoncello,  but  had  been  detained  in  inact- 
ivity in  the  ante-chamber  by  the  non-arrival  of  his  in- 
strument, which  had  now  at  length  made  its  appearance. 

The  domestic  who  placed  it  before  the  owner,  shrouded 
as  it  was  within  its  wooden  case,  seemed  heartily  glad 
to  be  rid  of  his  load,  and  lingered  for  a  moment,  as  if  in- 
terested in  discovering  what  sort  of  instrument  was  to 
be  produced  that  could  weigh  so  hea\dly.  His  curiosity 
was  satisfied,  and  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner;  for, 
while  the  musician  was  fumbling  with  the  key,  the  case 
being  for  his  greater  convenience  placed  upright  against 
the  wall,  the  case  and  instrument  itself  at  once  flew  open, 
and  out  started  the  dwarf,  Geoffrey  Hudson,  at  sight  of 

386 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

whose  unearthly  appearance,  thus  suddenly  introduced, 
the  ladies  shrieked  and  ran  backwards,  the  gentlemen 
started,  and  the  poor  German,  on  seeing  the  portentous 
delivery  of  his  fiddle-case,  tumbled  on  the  floor  in  an 
agony,  supposing,  it  might  be,  that  his  instrument  was 
metamorphosed  into  the  strange  figure  which  supplied 
its  place.  So  soon,  however,  as  he  recovered,  he  glided 
out  of  the  apartment,  and  was  followed  by  most  of  his 
companions. 

'Hudson!'  said  the  King.  "My little  old  friend,  I  am 
not  sorry  to  see  you ;  though  Buckingham,  who  I  suppose 
is  the  purveyor  of  this  jest,  hath  served  us  up  but  a  stale 
one.' 

'Will  your  Majesty  honour  me  with  one  moment's 
attention?'  said  Hudson. 

'Assuredly,  my  good  friend,'  said  the  King.  'Old  ac- 
quaintances are  springing  up  in  every  quarter  to-night; 
and  our  leisure  can  hardly  be  better  employed  than  in 
listening  to  them.  It  was  an  idle  trick  of  Buckingham,' 
he  added,  in  a  whisper  to  Ormond,  'to  send  the  poor 
thing  hither,  especially  as  he  was  to-day  tried  for  the 
affair  of  the  Plot.  At  any  rate,  he  comes  not  to  ask  pro- 
tection from  us,  having  had  the  rare  fortune  to  come  off 
plot-free.  He  is  but  fishing,  I  suppose,  for  some  little 
present  or  pension.' 

The  Uttle  man,  precise  in  court  etiquette,  yet  impa- 
tient of  the  King's  delaying  to  attend  to  him,  stood  in  the 
midst  of  the  floor,  most  valorously  pawing  and  pranc- 
ing, like  a  Scots  pony  assuming  the  airs  of  a  war-horse, 
waving  meanwhile  his  little  hat  with  the  tarnished  fea- 
ther, and  bowing  from  time  to  time,  as  if  impatient  to 
be  heard. 

387 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Speak  on,  then,  my  friend,'  said  Charles;  'if  thou 
hast  some  poetical  address  penned  for  thee,  out  with  it, 
that  thou  mayst  have  time  to  repose  these  flourishing 
little  limbs  of  thine.' 

*No  poetical  speech  have  I,  most  mighty  sovereign,' 
answered  the  dwarf;  *  but,  in  plain  and  most  noble  prose, 
I  do  accuse,  before  this  company,  the  once  noble  Duke 
of  Buckingham  of  high  treason ! ' 

'Well  spoken,  and  manfully.  Get  on,  man,'  said  the 
King,  who  never  doubted  that  this  was  the  introduction 
to  something  burlesque  or  witty,  not  conceiving  that  the 
charge  was  made  in  solemn  earnest. 

A  great  laugh  took  place  among  such  courtiers  as 
heard,  and  among  many  who  did  not  hear,  what  was  ut- 
tered by  the  dwarf ;  the  former  entertained  by  the  extra- 
vagant emphasis  and  gesticulation  of  the  little  champion, 
and  the  others  laughing  not  the  less  loud  that  they 
laughed  for  example's  sake,  and  upon  trust. 

'What  matter  is  there  for  all  this  mirth?'  said  he,  very 
indignantly.  *Is  it  fit  subject  for  laughing,  that  I,  Geof- 
frey Hudson,  knight,  do,  before  king  and  nobles,  im- 
peach George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  of  high 
treason?  * 

'No  subject  of  mirth,  certainly,'  said  Charles,  com- 
posing his  features ; '  but  great  matter  of  wonder.  Come, 
cease  this  mouthing,  and  prancing,  and  mummery.  If 
there  be  a  jest,  come,  out  with  it,  man ;  and  if  not,  even 
get  thee  to  the  beauffet,  and  drink  a  cup  of  wine  to  re- 
fresh thee  after  thy  close  lodging.' 

'I  tell  you,  my  liege,'  said  Hudson,  impatiently,  yet 
in  a  whisper,  intended  only  to  be  audible  by  the  King, 
*  that  if  you  spend  over  much  time  in  trifling,  you  will  be 

388 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

convinced  by  dire  experience  of  Buckingham's  treason. 
I  tell  you  —  I  asseverate  to  your  Majesty  —  two  hun- 
dred armed  fanatics  will  be  here  within  the  hour,  to  sur- 
prise the  guards.' 

'Stand  back,  ladies,'  said  the  King,  'or  you  may  hear 
more  than  you  will  care  to  listen  to.  My  Lord  of  Buck- 
ingham's jests  are  not  always,  you  know,  quite  fitted  for 
female  ears;  besides,  we  want  a  few  words  in  private 
with  our  little  friend.  You,  my  Lord  of  Ormond  —  you, 
Arlington  (and  he  named  one  or  two  others),  may  re- 
main with  us.' 

The  gay  crowd  bore  back,  and  dispersed  through  the 
apartment  —  the  men  to  conjecture  what  the  end  of  this 
mummery,  as  they  supposed  it,  was  likely  to  prove;  and 
what  jest,  as  Sedley  said,  the  bass-fiddle  had  been 
brought  to  bed  of,  and  the  ladies  to  admire  and  criticise 
the  antique  dress  and  richly  embroidered  ruff  and  hood 
of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  to  whom  the  Queen  was  show- 
ing particular  attention. 

'And  now,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  and  amongst 
friends,'  said  the  King  to  the  dwarf,  'what  means  all 
this?' 

'Treason,  my  lord  the  King!  —  treason  to  his  Maj- 
esty of  England!  When  I  was  chambered  in  yonder 
instrument,  my  lord,  the  High-Dutch  fellows  who  bore 
me  carried  me  into  a  certain  chapel,  to  see,  as  they  said 
to  each  other,  that  all  was  ready.  Sire,  I  went  where 
bass-fiddle  never  went  before,  even  into  a  conventicle 
of  Fifth  Monarchists;  and  when  they  brought  me  away, 
the  preacher  was  concluding  his  sermon,  and  was 
within  a  "Now  to  apply"  of  setting  off  like  the  bell- 
wether at  the  head  of  his  flock,  to  surprise  your  Maj- 

389 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

esty  in  your  royal  court.  I  heard  him  through  the 
sound-holes  of  my  instrument,  when  the  fellow  set  me 
down  for  a  moment  to  profit  by  this  precious  doctrine.' 

*It  would  be  singular,'  said  Lord  Arlington,  'were 
there  some  reality  at  the  bottom  of  this  buffoonery;  for 
we  know  these  wild  men  have  been  consulting  together 
to-day,  and  five  conventicles  have  held  a  solemn  fast.' 

*Nay,'  said  the  King,  'if  that  be  the  case,  they  are 
certainly  determined  on  some  villainy.' 

'Might  I  advise,'  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  'I  would 
summon  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  to  this  presence.  His 
connexions  with  the  fanatics  are  well  known,  though  he 
affects  to  conceal  them.' 

'You  would  not,  my  lord,  do  his  Grace  the  injustice 
to  treat  him  as  a  criminal  on  such  a  charge  as  this?' 
said  the  King.  'However,'  he  added,  after  a  moment's 
consideration,  'Buckingham  is  accessible  to  every  sort 
of  temptation,  from  the  flightiness  of  his  genius.  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  he  nourished  hopes  of  an  as- 
piring kind.  I  think  we  had  some  proof  of  it  but  lately. 
Hark  ye,  Chiffinch,  go  to  him  instantly,  and  bring  him 
here  on  any  fair  pretext  thou  canst  devise.  I  would  fain 
save  him  from  what  lawyers  call  an  overt  act.  The  court 
would  be  dull  as  a  dead  horse  were  Buckingham  to  mis- 
carry.' 

'Will  not  your  Majesty  order  the  Horse  Guards  to 
turn  out?'  said  young  Selby,  who  was  present  and  an 
officer. 

'No,  Selby,'  said  the  King,  *I  like  not  horse-play. 
But  let  them  be  prepared;  and  let  the  high  bailiff  collect 
his  civil  officers,  and  command  the  sheriffs  to  summon 
their  worshipful  attendants,  from  javelin-men  to  hang- 

390 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

men/  and  have  them  in  readiness,  in  case  of  any  sudden 
tumult;  double  the  sentinels  on  the  doors  of  the  palace, 
and  see  no  strangers  get  in.' 

'Or  out,^  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  'Where  are  the 
foreign  fellows  who  brought  in  the  dwarf  ? ' 

They  were  sought  for,  but  they  were  not  to  be  found. 
They  had  retreated,  leaving  their  instruments  —  a  cir- 
cumstance which  seemed  to  bear  hard  on  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  their  patron. 

Hasty  preparations  were  made  to  provide  resistance  to 
any  effort  of  despair  which  the  supposed  conspirators 
might  be  driven  to;  and,  in  the  meanwhile,  the  ICing, 
withdrawing  with  Arlington,  Ormond,  and  a  few  other 
counsellors,  into  the  cabinet  where  the  Countess  of 
Derby  had  had  her  audience,  resumed  the  examination 
of  the  little  discoverer.  His  declaration,  though  singu- 
lar, was  quite  coherent,  the  strain  of  romance  inter- 
mingled with  it  being,  in  fact,  a  part  of  his  character, 
which  often  gained  him  the  fate  of  being  laughed  at, 
when  he  would  otherwise  have  been  pitied,  or  even  es- 
teemed. 

He  commenced  with  a  flourish  about  his  sufferings  for 
the  Plot,  which  the  impatience  of  Ormond  would  have 
cut  short,  had  not  the  King  reminded  his  Grace  that  a 
top,  when  it  is  not  flogged,  must  needs  go  down  of  itself 
at  the  end  of  a  definite  time,  while  the  apphcation  of  the 
whip  may  keep  it  up  for  hours. 

Geoffrey  Hudson  was,  therefore,  allowed  to  exhaust 
himself  on  the  subject  of  his  prison-house,  which  he  in- 
formed the  King  was  not  without  a  beam  of  light  —  an 
emanation  of  loveliness  —  a  mortal  angel  —  quick  of 

*  See  Note  21. 
391 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


«l 


step  and  beautiful  of  eye,  who  had  more  than  once  visited 
his  confinement  with  words  of  cheering  and  comfort. 

*By  my  faith,'  said  the  King, '  they  fare  better  in  New- 
gate than  I  was  aware  of.  Who  would  have  thought  of 
the  little  gentleman  being  solaced  with  female  society 
in  such  a  place? ' 

'I  pray  your  Majesty,'  said  the  dwarf,  after  the  man- 
ner of  a  solemn  protest,  '  to  understand  nothing  amiss. 
My  devotion  to  this  fair  creature  is  rather  like  what  we 
poor  Catholics  pay  to  the  blessed  saints  than  mixed  with 
any  grosser  quality.  Indeed,  she  seems  rather  a  sylphid 
of  the  Rosicrucian  system  than  aught  more  carnal ;  being 
slighter,  lighter,  and  less  than  the  females  of  common 
life,  who  have  something  of  that  coarseness  of  make 
which  is  doubtless  derived  from  the  sinful  and  gigantic 
race  of  the  antediluvians.' 

'Well,  say  on,  man,'  quoth  Charles.  'Didst  thou  not 
discover  this  sylph  to  be  a  mere  mortal  wench  after  all?' 

'Who?    I,  my  liege?  Ofie!' 

'Nay,  little  gentleman,  do  not  be  so  particularly  scan- 
dalised,' said  the  King;  'I  promise  you,  I  suspect  you 
of  no  audacity  of  gallantry.' 

'Time  wears  fast,'  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  impa- 
tiently, and  looking  at  his  watch.  '  Chiffinch  hath  been 
gone  ten  minutes,  and  ten  minutes  will  bring  him  back.' 

'True,'  said  Charles,  gravely.  'Come  to  the  point, 
Hudson;  and  tell  us  what  this  female  has  to  do  with 
your  coming  hither  in  this  extraordinary  maimer.' 

'Everything,  my  lord,'  said  little  Hudson.  'I  saw  her 
twice  during  my  confinement  in  Newgate,  and,  in  my 
thought,  she  is  the  very  angel  who  guards  my  life  and 
welfare;  for,  after  my  acquittal,  as  I  walked  towards  the 

392 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

city  with  two  tall  gentlemen,  who  had  been  in  trouble 
along  with  me,  and  just  while  we  stood  to  our  defence 
against  a  rascally  mob,  and  Just  as  I  had  taken  possession 
of  an  elevated  situation  to  have  some  vantage  against 
the  great  odds  of  numbers,  I  heard  a  Heavenly  voice 
sound,  as  it  were,  from  a  window  behind  me,  counselling 
me  to  take  refuge  in  a  certain  house;  to  which  measure 
I  readily  persuaded  my  gallant  friends  the  Peverils,  who 
have  always  shown  themselves  willing  to  be  counselled 
by  me.' 

'Showing  therein  their  wisdom  at  once  and  modesty,' 
said  the  King.  'But  what  chanced  next?  Be  brief  — 
be  like  thyself,  man.' 

'For  a  time,  sire,'  said  the  dwarf,  'it  seemed  as  if  I 
were  not  the  principal  object  of  attention.  First,  the 
younger  Peveril  was  withdrawn  from  us  by  a  gentleman 
of  venerable  appearance,  though  somewhat  smacking 
of  a  Puritan,  having  boots  of  meat's  leather,  and  wear- 
ing his  weapon  without  a  sword-knot.  When  Master 
Julian  returned,  he  informed  us,  for  the  first  time,  that 
we  were  in  the  power  of  a  body  of  armed  fanatics,  who 
were,  as  the  poet  says,  "prompt  for  direful  act."  And 
your  Majesty  will  remark  that  both  father  and  son  were 
in  some  measure  desperate,  and  disregardful  from  that 
moment  of  the  assurances  which  I  gave  them,  that  the 
star  which  I  was  bound  to  worship  would,  in  her  own 
time,  shine  forth  in  signal  of  our  safety.  May  it  please 
your  Majesty,  in  answer  to  my  hilarious  exhortations  to 
confidence,  the  father  did  but  say  "tush"  and  the  son 
"pshaw,"  which  showed  how  men's  prudence  and  man- 
ners are  disturbed  by  affliction.  Nevertheless,  these  two 
gentlemen,  the  Peverils,  forming  a  strong  opinion  of  the 

393 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

necessity  there  was  to  break  forth,  were  it  only  to  con- 
vey a  knowledge  of  these  dangerous  passages  to  your 
Majesty,  commenced  an  assault  on  the  door  of  the  apart- 
ment, I  also  assisting  with  the  strength  which  Heaven 
hath  given,  and  some  threescore  years  have  left,  me. 
We  could  not,  as  it  unhappily  proved,  manage  our  at- 
tempt so  silently  but  that  our  guards  overheard  us,  and, 
entering  in  numbers,  separated  us  from  each  other,  and 
compelled  my  companions,  at  point  of  pike  and  poniard, 
to  go  to  some  other  and  more  distant  apartment,  thus 
separating  our  fair  society.  I  was  again  inclosed  in  the 
now  solitary  chamber,  and  I  will  own  that  I  felt  a  certain 
depression  of  soul.  But  "when  bale  is  at  highest,"  as 
the  poet  singeth,  "boot  is  at  nighest,"  for  a  door  of 
hope  was  suddenly  opened  — ' 

'In  the  name  of  God,  my  liege,'  said  the  Duke  of  Or- 
mond,  'let  this  poor  creature's  story  be  translated  into 
the  language  of  common  sense  by  some  of  the  scribblers 
of  romances  about  court,  and  we  may  be  able  to  make 
meaning  of  it.' 

Geoffrey  Hudson  looked  with  a  frowning  countenance 
of  reproof  upon  the  impatient  old  Irish  nobleman,  and 
said,  with  a  very  dignified  air,  'That  one  duke  upon  a 
poor  gentleman's  hand  was  enough  at  a  time,  and  that, 
but  for  his  present  engagement  and  dependency  with 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  he  would  have  endured  no 
such  terms  from  the  Duke  of  Ormond.' 

'Abate  your  valour  and  diminish  your  choler,  at  our 
request,  most  puissant  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson,'  said  the 
King;  'and  forgive  the  Duke  of  Ormond  for  my  sake; 
but  at  all  events  go  on  with  your  story.' 

Geoffrey  Hudson  laid  his  hand  on  his  bosom  and  bowed 

394 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

in  proud  and  dignified  submission  to  his  sovereign;  then 
waved  his  forgiveness  gracefully  to  Ormond,  accompan- 
ied with  a  horrible  grin,  which  he  designed  for  a  smile 
of  gracious  forgiveness  and  conciliation.  'Under  the 
duke's  favour,  then,'  he  proceeded,  'when  I  said  a  door 
of  hope  was  opened  to  me,  I  meant  a  door  behind  the 
tapestry,  from  whence  issued  that  fair  vision  —  yet 
not  so  fair  as  lustrously  dark,  like  the  beauty  of  a  con- 
tinental night,  where  the  cloudless  azure  sky  shrouds 
us  in  a  veil  more  lovely  than  that  of  day!  But  I  note 
your  Majesty's  impatience.  Enough  —  I  followed  my 
beautiful  guide  into  an  apartment,  where  there  lay, 
strangely  intermingled,  warlike  arms  and  musical  in- 
struments. Among  these  I  saw  my  own  late  place  of 
temporary  obscurity  —  a  violoncello.  To  my  astonish- 
ment, she  turned  around  the  instrument,  and  opening 
it  behind  by  pressure  of  a  spring,  showed  that  it  was 
filled  with  pistols,  daggers,  and  ammunition  made  up  in 
bandeliers.  "These,"  she  said,  "are  this  night  destined 
to  surprise  the  court  of  the  unwary  Charles"  —  your 
Majesty  must  pardon  my  using  her  own  words  —  "but 
if  thou  darest  go  in  their  stead,  thou  mayst  be  the  saviour 
of  king  and  kingdoms;  if  thou  art  afraid,  keep  secret,  I 
will  myself  try  the  adventure."  "Now,  may  Heaven 
forbid  that  Geoffrey  Hudson  were  craven  enough," 
said  I,  "to  let  thee  run  such  a  risk!  You  know  not  — 
you  cannot  know,  what  belongs  to  such  ambuscades  and 
concealments.  I  am  accustomed  to  them:  have  lurked 
in  the  pocket  of  a  giant,  and  have  formed  the  contents 
of  a  pasty."  "Get  in,  then,"  she  said,  "and  lose  no 
time."  Nevertheless,  while  I  prepared  to  obey,  I  will  not 
deny  that  some  cold  apprehensions  came  over  my  hot 

395 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

valour,  and  I  confessed  to  her,  if  it  might  be  so,  I  would 
rather  find  my  way  to  the  palace  on  my  own  feet.  But 
she  would  not  listen  to  me,  saying  hastily,  "I  would  be 
intercepted,  or  refused  admittance,  and  that  I  must  em- 
brace the  means  she  offered  me  of  introduction  into  the 
presence,  and  when  there  tell  the  King  to  be  on  his 
guard ;  httle  more  is  necessary,  for  once  the  scheme  is 
known  it  becomes  desperate."  Rashly  and  boldly  I  bid 
adieu  to  the  daylight,  which  was  then  fading  away.  She 
withdrew  the  contents  of  the  instrument  destined  for  my 
concealment,  and  having  put  them  behind  the  chimney- 
board,  introduced  me  in  their  room.  As  she  clasped  me 
in,  I  implored  her  to  warn  the  men  who  were  to  be  en- 
trusted with  me  to  take  heed  and  keep  the  neck  of  the 
violoncello  uppermost;  but  ere  I  had  completed  my  re- 
quest, I  found  I  was  left  alone,  and  in  darkness.  Pre- 
sently, two  or  three  fellows  entered,  whom,  by  their  lan- 
guage, which  I  in  some  sort  understood,  I  perceived  to 
be  Germans,  and  under  the  influence  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham.  I  heard  them  receive  from  the  leader  a 
charge  how  they  were  to  deport  themselves  when  they 
should  assume  the  concealed  arms;  and  —  for  I  will  do 
the  duke  no  wrong  —  I  understood  their  orders  were 
precise,  not  only  to  spare  the  person  of  the  King,  but 
also  those  of  the  courtiers,  and  to  protect  all  who  might 
be  in  the  presence  against  an  irruption  of  the  fanatics. 
In  other  respects,  they  had  charge  to  disarm  the  gentle- 
men-pensioners in  the  guard-room,  and,  in  fine,  to  ob- 
tain the  command  of  the  court.' 

The  King  looked  disconcerted  and  thoughtful  at  this 
communication,  and  bade  Lord  Arlington  see  that  Selby 
quietly  made  search  into  the  contents  of  the  other  cases 

396 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

which  had  been  brought  as  containing  musical  instru- 
ments. He  then  signed  to  the  dwarf  to  proceed  in  his 
story,  asking  him  again  and  again,  and  very  solemnly, 
whether  he  was  sure  that  he  heard  the  duke's  name  men- 
tioned, as  commanding  or  approving  this  action. 

The  dwarf  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

'This,'  said  the  King,  'is  carrying  the  frolic  somewhat 
far.' 

The  dwarf  proceeded  to  state,  that  'He  was  carried 
after  his  metamorphosis  into  the  chapel,  where  he  heard 
the  preacher  seemingly  about  the  close  of  his  harangue,' 
the  tenor  of  which  he  also  mentioned.  'Words,'  he  said, 
'could  not  express  the  agony  which  he  felt  when  he 
found  that  his  bearer,  in  placing  the  instrument  in  a 
corner,  was  about  to  invert  its  position,  in  which  case,' 
he  said,  'human  frailty  might  have  proved  too  great 
for  love,  for  loyalty,  for  true  obedience,  nay,  for  the  fear 
of  death,  which  was  like  to  ensue  on  discovery ' ;  and  he 
concluded,  that  'he  greatly  doubted  he  could  not  have 
stood  on  his  head  for  many  minutes  without  screaming 
aloud.' 

'I  could  not  have  blamed  you,'  said  the  King;  'placed 
in  such  a  posture  in  the  royal  oak,  I  must  needs  have 
roared  myself.  Is  this  all  you  have  to  tell  us  of  this 
strange  conspiracy? '  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson  repUed  in  the 
affirmative,  and  the  King  presently  subjoined  —  '  Go, 
my  httle  friend;  your  services  shall  not  be  forgotten. 
Since  thou  hast  crept  into  the  bowels  of  a  fiddle  for  our 
service,  we  are  bound,  in  duty  and  conscience,  to  find 
you  a  more  roomy  dwelling  in  future.' 

'It  was  a  violoncello,  if  your  Majesty  is  pleased  to  re- 
member,' said  the  httle  jealous  man,  'not  a  common 

397 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

fiddle;  though,  for  your  Majesty's  service,  I  would  have 
crept  even  into  a  kit.' 

*  Whatever  of  that  nature  could  have  been  performed 
by  any  subject  of  ours,  thou  wouldst  have  enacted  in  our 
behalf,  of  that  we  hold  ourselves  certain.  Withdraw  for 
a  little;  and  hark  ye,  for  the  present,  beware  what  you 
say  about  this  matter.  Let  your  appearance  be  con- 
sidered —  do  you  mark  me  —  as  a  frolic  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham;  and  not  a  word  of  conspiracy.' 

*  Were  it  not  better  to  put  him  under  some  restraint, 
sire?'  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  when  Hudson  had  left 
the  room. 

*It  is  unnecessary,'  said  the  King,  *I  remember  the 
little  wretch  of  old.  Fortune,  to  make  him  the  model  of 
absurdity,  has  closed  a  most  lofty  soul  within  that  little 
miserable  carcass.  For  wielding  his  sword  and  keeping 
his  word,  he  is  a  perfect  Don  Quixote  in  decimo-octavo. 
He  shall  be  taken  care  of.  But,  odds-fish,  my  lords,  is 
not  this  freak  of  Buckingham  too  villainous  and  imgrate- 
ful?' 

'He  had  not  had  the  means  of  being  so,  had  your 
Majesty,'  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  'been  less  lenient 
on  other  occasions.' 

*  My  lord  —  my  lord,'  said  Charles,  hastily, '  your  lord- 
ship is  Buckingham's  known  enemy;  we  will  take  other 
and' more  impartial  counsel.  Arlington,  what  think  you 
of  all  this?' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,'  said  Arlington,  'I 
think  the  thing  is  absolutely  impossible,  unless  the  duke 
has  had  some  quarrel  with  your  Majesty  of  which  we 
know  nothing.  His  Grace  is  very  flighty,  doubtless,  but 
this  seems  actual  insanity.' 

398 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*Why,  faith/  said  the  King,  'some  words  passed  be- 
twixt us  this  morning;  his  duchess  it  seems  is  dead,  and, 
to  lose  no  time,  his  Grace  had  cast  his  eyes  about  for 
means  of  repairing  the  loss,  and  had  the  assurance  to  ask 
our  consent  to  woo  my  niece,  Lady  Anne.' 

'Which  your  Majesty  of  course  rejected?'  said  the 
statesman. 

'And  not  without  rebuking  his  assurance,'  added  the 
King. 

'In  private,  sir,  or  before  any  witnesses?'  said  the 
Duke  of  Ormond. 

'Before  no  one,'  said  the  King  —  'excepting,  indeed, 
little  Chifiinch;  and  he,  you  know,  is  no  one.' 

' Hinc  illcB  lachrymcB,'  said  Ormond.  'I  know  his 
Grace  well.  While  the  rebuke  of  his  aspiring  petulance 
was  a  matter  betwixt  your  Majesty  and  him,  he  might 
have  let  it  pass  by;  but  a  check  before  a  fellow  from 
whom  it  was  hkely  enough  to  travel  through  the  court 
was  a  matter  to  be  revenged.' 

Here  Selby  came  hastily  from  the  other  room,  to  say 
that  his  Grace  of  Buckingham  had  just  entered  the 
presence-chamber. 

The  King  rose.  'Let  a  boat  be  in  readiness,  with  a 
party  of  the  yeomen,'  said  he.  'It  may  be  necessary 
to  attach  him  of  treason  and  send  him  to  the  Tower.' 

'Should  not  a  Secretary  of  State's  warrant  be  pre- 
pared?' said  Ormond. 

'No,  my  lord  duke,'  said  the  King,  sharply.  'I  still 
hope  that  the  necessity  may  be  avoided.' 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

High  reaching  Buckingham  grows  circumspect. 


Richard  III. 


Before  giving  the  reader  an  account  of  the  meeting  be- 
twixt Buckingham  and  his  injured  sovereign,  we  may 
mention  a  trifling  circumstance  or  two  which  took  place 
betwixt  his  Grace  and  Chiffinch,  in  the  short  drive 
betwixt  York  Place  and  Whitehall. 

In  the  outset,  the  duke  endeavoured  to  learn  from  the 
courtier  the  special  cause  of  his  being  summoned  so 
hastily  to  the  court.  Chiffinch  answered,  cautiously, 
that  *He  believed  there  were  some  gambols  going  for- 
ward, at  which  the  King  desired  the  duke's  presence.' 

This  did  not  quite  satisfy  Buckingham,  for,  conscious 
of  his  own  rash  purpose,  he  could  not  but  apprehend 
discovery.  After  a  moment's  silence,  'Chiffinch,'  he 
said,  abruptly,  'did  you  mention  to  any  one  what  the 
King  said  to  me  this  morning  touching  the  Lady 
Anne? ' 

'My  lord  duke,'  said  Chiffinch,  hesitating,  'surely  my 
duty  to  the  King,  my  respect  to  your  Grace  — ' 

'You  mentioned  it  to  no  one  then?'  said  the  duke, 
sternly. 

'To  no  one,'  replied  Chiffinch,  faintly,  for  he  was  in- 
timidated by  the  duke's  increasing  severity  of  manner. 

'You  lie, like  a  scoundrel!'  said  the  duke.  'You  told 
Christian.' 

'Your  Grace,'  said  Chiffinch  —  'your  Grace  —  your 

400 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Grace  ought  to  remember  that  I  told  you  Christian's 
secret,  that  the  Countess  of  Derby  was  come  up.' 

'And  you  think  the  one  point  of  treachery  may  bal- 
ance for  the  other?  But  no.  I  must  have  a  better 
atonement.  Be  assured  I  will  blow  your  brains  out,  ere 
you  leave  this  carriage,  unless  you  tell  me  the  truth  of 
this  message  from  court.' 

As  Chiffinch  hesitated  what  reply  to  make,  a  man, 
who,  by  the  blaze  of  the  torches,  then  always  borne  as 
well  by  the  lackeys  who  hung  behind  the  carriage  as  by 
the  footmen  who  ran  by  the  side,  might  easily  see  who 
sat  in  the  coach,  approached,  and  sung  in  a  deep  manly 
voice  the  burden  of  an  old  French  song  on  the  battle  of 
Marignan,  in  which  is  imitated  the  German  French  of 
the  defeated  Swiss  -^ 

'Tout  est  veriore, 
La  tintelore, 
Tout  est  veriore, 

Bei  Got.' 

*I  am  betrayed,'  said  the  duke,  who  instantly  con- 
ceived that  this  chorus,  expressing  'all  is  lost,'  was  sung 
by  one  of  his  faithful  agents,  as  a  hint  to  him  that  their 
machinations  were  discovered. 

He  attempted  to  throw  himself  from  the  carriage,  but 
Chiffinch  held  him  with  a  firm,  though  respectful,  grasp. 
'Do  not  destroy  yourself,  my  lord,'  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
deep  humility;  'there  are  soldiers  and  officers  of  the 
peace  around  the  carriage,  to  enforce  your  Grace's  com- 
ing to  Whitehall,  and  to  prevent  your  escape.  To  at- 
tempt it  would  be  to  confess  guilt,  and  I  advise  you 
strongly  against  that;  the  King  is  your  friend  —  be  your 
own.' 

S8  401 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  duke,  after  a  moment's  consideration,  said  sul- 
lenly, *  I  believe  you  are  right.  Why  should  I  fly,  when 
I  am  guilty  of  nothing  but  sending  some  fireworks  to 
entertain  the  court,  instead  of  a  concert  of  music?' 

'And  the  dwarf,  who  came  so  unexpectedly  out  of  the 
bass-viol  — ' 

'Was  a  masking  device  of  my  own,  Chifiinch,'  said 
the  duke,  though  the  circumstance  was  then  first  known 
to  him.  'Chiffinch,  you  will  bind  me  for  ever  if  you 
will  permit  me  to  have  a  minute's  conversation  with 
Christian.' 

'With  Christian,  my  lord?  Where  could  you  find  him? 
You  are  aware  we  must  go  straight  on  to  the  court.' 

'True,'  said  the  duke,  'but  I  think  I  cannot  miss  find- 
ing him;  and  you,  Master  Chifiinch,  are  no  ofiicer,  and 
have  no  warrant  either  to  detain  me  prisoner  or  prevent 
my  speaking  to  whom  I  please.' 

Chifiinch  replied,  'My  lord  duke,  your  genius  is  so 
great,  and  your  escapes  so  numerous,  that  it  will  be  from 
no  wish  of  my  own  if  I  am  forced  to  hurt  a  man  so  skilful 
and  so  popular.' 

'Nay,  then,  there  is  life  in  it  yet,'  said  the  duke,  and 
whistled;  when,  from  beside  the  little  cutler's  booth, 
with  which  the  reader  is  acquainted,  appeared,  suddenly, 
Master  Christian,  and  was  in  a  moment  at  the  side  of  the 
coach.    ^Ganz  ist  verloren'  said  the  duke. 

'I  know  it,'  said  Christian;  'and  all  our  godly  friends 
are  dispersed  upon  the  news.  Lucky  the  colonel  and 
these  German  rascals  gave  a  hint.  All  is  safe.  You  go 
to  court.    Hark  ye,  I  will  follow.' 

'You,  Christian?  that  would  be  more  friendly  than 
wise.' 

402 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

'Why,  what  is  there  against  me,'  said  Christian.  'I 
am  innocent  as  the  child  unborn,  so  is  your  Grace.  There 
is  but  one  creature  who  can  bear  witness  to  our  guilt; 
but  I  trust  to  bring  her  on  the  stage  in  our  favour;  be- 
sides, if  I  went  not,  I  should  presently  be  sent  for.' 

'The  familiar  of  whom  I  have  heard  you  speak,  I 
warrant? ' 

'Hark  in  your  ear  again.' 

*I  understand,'  said  the  duke,  'and  will  delay  Master 
Chiffinch  —  for  he,  you  must  know,  is  my  conductor  — • 
no  longer.  Well,  Chiffinch,  let  them  drive  on.  Vogue 
la  galerel'  he  exclaimed,  as  the  carriage  went  onward; 
'I  have  sailed  through  worse  perils  than  this  yet.' 

'It  is  not  for  me  to  judge,'  said  Chiffinch;  'your  Grace 
is  a  bold  commander,  and  Christian  hath  the  cunning 
of  the  devil  for  a  pilot;  but  —  However,  I  remain  your 
Grace's  poor  friend,  and  will  heartily  rejoice  in  your  ex- 
trication.' 

'Give  me  a  proof  of  your  friendship,'  said  the  duke. 
'Tell  me  what  you  know  of  Christian's  familiar,  as  he 
calls  her.' 

'I  believe  it  to  be  the  same  dancing  wench  who  came 
with  Empson  to  my  house  on  the  morning  that  Mistress 
Alice  made  her  escape  from  us.  But  you  have  seen  her, 
my  lord.' 

'I!'  said  the  duke.   'When  did  I  see  her?' 

'She  was  employed  by  Christian,  I  beheve,  to  set  his 
niece  at  liberty,  when  he  found  himself  obliged  to  gratify 
his  fanatical  brother-in-law,  by  restoring  his  child; 
besides,  being  prompted  by  a  private  desire,  as  I  think,  of 
bantering  your  Grace.' 

'  Umph !  I  suspected  so  much.  I  will  repay  it,'  said  the 

403 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

duke.  'But  first  to  get  out  of  this  dilemma.  That  little 
Numidian  witch,  then,  was  his  familiar;  and  she  joined 
in  the  plot  to  tantalise  me?  But  here  we  reach  White- 
hall. Now,  Chiffinch,  be  no  worse  than  thy  word,  and  — 
now,  Buckingham,  be  thyself!' 

But  ere  we  follow  Buckingham  into  the  presence, 
where  he  had  so  difficult  a  part  to  sustain,  it  may  not 
be  amiss  to  follow  Christian  after  his  brief  conversation 
with  him.  On  re-entering  the  house,  which  he  did  by  a 
circuitous  passage,  leading  from  a  distant  alley,  and 
through  several  courts,  Christian  hastened  to  a  low  mat- 
ted apartment,  in  which  Bridgenorth  sat  alone,  reading 
the  Bible  by  the  light  of  a  small  brazen  lamp,  with  the 
utmost  serenity  of  countenance. 

'Have  you  dismissed  the  Peverils?'  said  Christian, 
hastily. 

'I  have,'  said  the  major. 

'And  upon  what  pledge  that  they  will  not  carry  in- 
formation against  you  to  Whitehall?' 

'They  gave  me  their  promise  voluntarily,  when  I 
showed  them  our  armed  friends  were  dismissed.  To- 
morrow, I  believe,  it  is  their  purpose  to  lodge  informa- 
tions.' 

'And  why  not  to-night,  I  pray  you?'  said  Christian. 

'Because  they  allow  us  that  time  for  escape.' 

'Why,  then,  do  you  not  avail  yourself  of  it?  Where- 
fore are  you  here?'  said  Christian. 

'Nay,  rather,  why  do  you  not  fly?'  said  Bridgenorth. 
'Of  a  surety,  you  are  as  deeply  engaged  as  I.' 

'Brother  Bridgenorth,  I  am  the  fox,  who  knows  a 
hundred  modes  of  deceiving  the  hounds;  you  are  the 
deer,  whose  sole  resource  is  in  hasty  flight.   Therefore 

404 


% 


C\ 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

lose  no  time  —  begone  to  the  country;  or  rather,  Zed- 
ekiah  Fish's  vessel,  the  Good  Hope,  lies  in  the  river, 
bound  for  Massachusetts  —  take  the  wings  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  begone;  she  can  fail  down  to  Gravesend  with 
the  tide.' 

'And  leave  to  thee,  brother  Christian,'  said  Bridge- 
north,  '  the  charge  of  my  fortune  and  my  daughter?  No, 
brother;  my  opinion  of  your  good  faith  must  be  re- 
established ere  I  again  trust  thee.' 

'  Go  thy  ways,  then,  for  a  suspicious  fool,'  said  Christ- 
ian, suppressing  his  strong  desire  to  use  language  more 
offensive;  'or  rather  stay  where  thou  art,  and  take  thy 
chance  of  the  gallows ! ' 

'It  is  appointed  to  all  men  to  die  once,'  said  Bridge- 
north;  'my  life  hath  been  a  living  death.  My  fairest 
boughs  have  been  stripped  by  the  axe  of  the  forester; 
that  which  survives  must,  if  it  shall  blossom,  be  grafted 
elsewhere,  and  at  a  distance  from  my  aged  trunk.  The 
sooner,  then,  the  root  feels  the  axe,  the  stroke  is  more 
welcome.  I  had  been  pleased,  indeed,  had  I  been  called 
to  bringing  yonder  licentious  court  to  a  purer  character, 
and  relieving  the  yoke  of  the  suffering  people  of  God. 
That  youth  too  —  son  to  that  precious  woman  to  whom 
I  owe  the  last  tie  that  feebly  links  my  wearied  spirit  to 
humanity  —  could  I  have  travailed  with  him  in  the 
good  cause !  But  that,  with  all  my  other  hopes,  is  broken 
for  ever;  and  since  I  am  not  worthy  to  be  an  instrument 
in  so  great  a  work,  I  have  little  desire  to  abide  longer  in 
this  vale  of  sorrow.' 

*  Farewell,  then,  desponding  fool!'  said  Christian,  un- 
able, with  all  his  calmness,  any  longer  to  suppress  his 
contempt  for  the  resigned  and  hopeless  predestinarian. 

40.S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*That  fate  should  have  clogged  me  with  such  confed- 
erates!' he  muttered,  as  he  left  the  apartment.  'This 
bigoted  fool  is  now  nearly  irreclaimable.  I  must  to 
Zarah;  for  she,  or  no  one,  must  carry  us  through  these 
straits.  If  I  can  but  soothe  her  sullen  temper,  and  excite 
her  vanity  to  action,  betwixt  her  address,  the  King's 
partiality  for  the  duke,  Buckingham's  matchless  effront- 
ery, and  my  own  hand  upon  the  helm,  we  may  yet  wea- 
ther the  tempest  that  darkens  around  us.  But  what  we 
do  must  be  hastily  done.' 

In  another  apartment  he  found  the  person  he  sought 
—  the  same  who  visited  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's 
harem,  and,  having  relieved  Alice  Bridgenorth  from  her 
confiinement  there,  had  occupied  her  place,  as  has  been 
already  narrated,  or  rather  intimated.  She  was  now 
much  more  plainly  attired  than  when  she  had  tantalised 
the  duke  with  her  presence;  but  her  dress  had  still 
something  of  the  Oriental  character,  which  corresponded 
with  the  dark  complexion  and  quick  eye  of  the  wearer. 
She  had  the  kerchief  at  her  eyes  as  Christian  entered  the 
apartment,  but  suddenly  withdrew  it,  and,  flashing  on 
him  a  glance  of  scorn  and  indignation,  asked  him  what 
he  meant  by  intruding  where  his  company  was  ahke  un- 
sought for  and  undesired. 

*A  proper  question,'  said  Christian,  'from  a  slave  to 
her  master!' 

'Rather  say,  a  proper  question,  and  of  all  questions 
the  most  proper,  from  a  mistress  to  her  slave!  Know 
you  not,  that  from  the  hour  in  which  you  discovered 
your  ineffable  baseness,  you  have  made  me  mistress  of 
your  lot?  While  you  seemed  but  a  demon  of  vengeance, 
you  commanded  terror,  and  to  good  purpose;  but  such 

406 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

a  foul  fiend  as  thou  hast  of  late  shown  thyself  —  such 
a  very  worthless,  base  trickster  of  the  devil  —  such  a 
sordid,  grovelling  imp  of  perdition,  can  gain  nothing  but 
scorn  from  a  soul  like  mine.' 

'Gallantly  mouthed,'  said  Christian,  'and  with  good 
emphasis.' 

*Yes,'  answered  Zarah;  *I  can  speak;  sometimes  I  can 
also  be  mute,  and  that  no  one  knows  better  than  thou.' 

'Thou  art  a  spoiled  child,  Zarah,  and  dost  but  abuse 
the  indulgence  I  entertain  for  your  freakish  humour,' 
replied  Christian ;  '  thy  wits  have  been  disturbed  since 
ever  you  landed  in  England,  and  all  for  the  sake  of  one 
who  cares  for  thee  no  more  than  for  the  most  worthless 
object  who  walks  the  streets,  amongst  whom  he  left  you 
to  engage  in  a  brawl  for  one  he  loved  better.' 

'It  is  no  matter,'  said  Zarah,  obviously  repressing 
very  bitter  emotion  —  'it  signifies  not  that  he  loves 
another  better;  there  is  none  —  no,  none  —  that  ever 
did  or  can  love  him  so  well.' 

'I  pity  you,  Zarah!'  said  Christian,  with  some  scorn. 

'I  deserve  your  pity,'  she  replied,  'were  your  pity 
worth  my  accepting.  Whom  have  I  to  thank  for  my 
wretchedness  but  you?  You  bred  me  up  in  thirst  of 
vengeance,  ere  I  knew  that  good  and  evil  were  anything 
better  than  names;  to  gain  your  applause  and  to  gratify 
the  vanity  you  had  excited,  I  have  for  years  undergone 
a  penance  from  which  a  thousand  would  have  shrunk.' 

'A  thousand,  Zarah!'  answered  Christian;  'ay,  a 
hundred  thousand,  and  a  million  to  boot:  the  creature 
is  not  on  earth,  being  mere  mortal  woman,  that  would 
have  undergone  the  thirtieth  part  of  thy  self-denial.' 

'I  believe  it,'  said  Zarah,  drawing  up  her  slight  but 
407 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

elegant  figure  —  *I  believe  it;  I  have  gone  through  a 
trial  that  few  indeed  could  have  sustained.  I  have  re- 
nounced the  dear  intercourse  of  my  kind ;  compelled  my 
tongue  only  to  utter,  like  that  of  a  spy,  the  knowledge 
which  my  ear  had  only  collected  as  a  base  eavesdropper. 
This  I  have  done  for  years  —  for  years;  and  all  for  the 
sake  of  your  private  applause,  and  the  hope  of  vengeance 
on  a  woman  who,  if  she  did  ill  in  murdering  my  father, 
has  been  bitterly  repaid  by  nourishing  a  serpent  in  her 
bosom,  that  had  the  tooth,  but  not  the  deafened  ear, 
of  the  adder.' 

'Well  —  well  —  well,'  reiterated  Christian;  'and  had 
you  not  your  reward  in  my  approbation  —  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  your  own  unequalled  dexterity,  by  which, 
superior  to  anything  of  thy  sex  that  history  has  ever 
known,  you  endured  what  woman  never  before  endured 
—  insolence  without  notice,  admiration  without  answer, 
and  sarcasm  without  reply? ' 

'Not  without  reply!'  said  Zarah,  fiercely.  'Gave  not 
nature  to  my  feelings  a  course  of  expression  more  im- 
pressive than  words?  and  did  not  those  tremble  at  my 
shrieks  who  would  have  little  minded  my  entreaties  or 
my  complaints?  And  my  proud  lady,  who  sauced  her 
charities  with  the  taunts  she  thought  I  heard  not  — 
she  was  justly  paid  by  the  passing  of  her  dearest  and 
most  secret  concerns  into  the  hands  of  her  mortal  enemy; 
and  the  vain  earl  —  yet  he  was  a  thing  as  insignificant 
as  the  plume  that  nodded  in  his  cap;  and  the  maidens 
and  ladies  who  taimted  me  —  I  had,  or  can  easily  have, 
my  revenge  upon  them.  But  there  is  one,''  she  added, 
looking  upward,  'who  never  taunted  me  —  one  whose 
generous  feelings  could  treat  the  poor  dumb  girl  even 

408 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

as  his  sister  —  who  never  spoke  word  of  her  but  it  was 
to  excuse  or  defend ;  and  you  tell  me  I  must  not  love  him, 
and  that  it  is  madness  to  love  him !  I  will  be  mad  then, 
for  I  will  love  him  till  the  latest  breath  of  my  life ! ' 

'  Think  but  an  instant,  silly  girl  —  silly  but  in  one 
respect,  since  in  all  others  thou  mayst  brave  the  world 
of  women.  Think  that  I  have  proposed  to  thee,  for 
the  loss  of  this  hopeless  affection,  a  career  so  brilliant! 
Think  only  that  it  rests  with  thyself  to  be  the  wife — the 
wedded  wife  —  of  the  princely  Buckingham !  With  my 
talents,  with  thy  wit  and  beauty,  with  his  passionate 
love  of  these  attributes,  a  short  space  might  rank  you 
among  England's  princesses.  Be  but  guided  by  me;  he 
is  now  at  a  deadly  pass,  needs  every  assistance  to  retrieve 
his  fortunes  —  above  all,  that  which  we  alone  can  render 
him.  Put  yourself  under  my  conduct,  and  not  fate  itself 
shall  prevent  your  wearing  a  duchess's  coronet.' 

*A  coronet  of  thistle-down,  entwined  with  thistle- 
leaves,'  said  Zarah.  'I  know  not  a  slighter  thing  than 
your  Buckingham !  I  saw  him  at  your  request  —  saw 
him  when,  as  a  man,  he  should  have  shown  himself  gen- 
erous and  noble.  I  stood  the  proof  at  your  desire,  for  I 
laugh  at  those  dangers  from  which  the  poor  blushing 
wallers  of  my  sex  shrink  and  withdraw  themselves. 
What  did  I  find  him?  a  poor  wavering  voluptuary  — 
his  nearest  attempt  to  passion  Hke  the  fire  on  a  wretched 
stubble-field,  that  may  singe,  indeed,  or  smoke,  but  can 
neither  warm  nor  devour.  Christian !  were  his  coronet 
at  my  feet  this  moment,  I  would  sooner  take  up  a  crown 
of  gilded  gingerbread  than  extend  my  hand  to  raise  it.' 

'You  are  mad,  Zarah — with  all  your  taste  and  talent, 
you  are  utterly  mad!    But  let  Buckingham  pass.    Do 

409 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

you  owe  me  nothing  on  this  emergency — nothing  to  one 
who  rescued  you  from  the  cruelty  of  your  owner,  the 
posture-master,  to  place  you  in  ease  and  affluence? ' 

'Christian,'  she  replied,  'I  owe  you  much.  Had  I  not 
felt  I  did  so,  I  would,  as  I  have  been  often  tempted  to 
do,  have  denounced  thee  to  the  fierce  countess,  who 
would  have  gibbeted  you  on  her  feudal  walls  of  Castle 
Rushin,and  bid  your  family  seek  redress  from  the  eagles, 
that  would  long  since  have  thatched  their  nest  with  your 
hair,  and  fed  their  young  ospreys  with  your  flesh.' 

'I  am  truly  glad  you  have  had  so  much  forbearance 
for  me,'  answered  Christian. 

'I  have  it  in  truth  and  in  sincerity,'  replied  Zarah, 
'not  for  your  benefits  to  me;  such  as  they  were,  they 
were  every  one  interested,  and  conferred  from  the  most 
selfish  considerations.  I  have  overpaid  them  a  thousand 
times  by  the  devotion  to  your  will  which  I  have  dis- 
played at  the  greatest  personal  risk.  But  till  of  late  I 
respected  your  powers  of  mind  —  your  inimitable  com- 
mand of  passion  —  the  force  of  intellect  which  I  have 
ever  seen  you  exercise  over  all  others,  from  the  bigot 
Bridgenorth  to  the  debauched  Buckingham  —  in  that, 
indeed,  I  have  recognised  my  master.' 

'And  those  powers,'  said  Christian,  'are  unlimited  as 
ever ;  and  with  thy  assistance,  thou  shalt  see  the  strong- 
est meshes  that  the  laws  of  ci\dl  society  ever  wove  to 
limit  the  natural  dignity  of  man  broke  asunder  like  a 
spider's  web.' 

She  paused  and  answered, '  While  a  noble  motive  fired 
thee  —  ay,  a  noble  motive,  though  irregular  —  for  I  was 
born  to  gaze  on  the  sun  which  the  pale  daughters  of 
Europe  shrink  from  —  I  could  serve  thee:  I  could  have 

410 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

followed,  while  revenge  or  ambition  had  guided  thee  — 
but  love  of  wealth,  and  by  what  means  acquired!  What 
sympathy  can  I  hold  with  that?  Wouldst  thou  not  have 
pandered  to  the  lust  of  the  King,  though  the  object  was 
thine  own  orphan  niece?  You  smile.  Smile  again  when 
I  ask  you  whether  you  meant  not  my  own  prostitution 
when  you  charged  me  to  remain  in  the  house  of  that 
wretched  Buckingham.  Smile  at  that  question,  and  by 
Heaven  I  stab  you  to  the  heart!'  And  she  thrust  her 
hand  into  her  bosom,  and  partly  showed  the  hilt  of  a 
small  poniard. 

'And  if  I  smile,'  said  Christian,  'it  is  but  in  scorn  of  so 
odious  an  accusation.  Girl,  I  will  not  tell  thee  the  rea- 
son, but  there  exists  not  on  earth  the  living  thing  over 
whose  safety  and  honour  I  would  keep  watch  as  over 
thine.  Buckingham's  wife,  indeed,  I  wished  thee;  and 
through  thy  own  beauty  and  thy  wit,  I  doubted  not  to 
bring  the  match  to  pass.' 

'Vain  flatterer,'  said  Zarah,  yet  seeming  soothed  even 
by  the  flattery  which  she  scoffed  at,  'you  would  per- 
suade me  that  it  was  honourable  love  which  you  expected 
the  duke  was  to  have  offered  me.  How  durst  you  urge 
so  gross  a  deception,  to  which  time,  place,  and  circum- 
stances gave  the  lie?  How  dare  you  now  again  mention 
it  when  you  well  know  that  at  the  time  you  mention  the 
duchess  was  still  in  life? ' 

'In  hfe,  but  on  her  death-bed,'  said  Christian;  'and 
for  time,  place,  and  circumstance,  had  your  virtue,  my 
Zarah,  depended  on  these,  how  couldst  thou  have  been 
the  creature  thou  art?  I  knew  thee  all-sufhcient  to  bid 
him  defiance,  else  —  for  thou  art  dearer  to  me  than  thou 
thinkest  —  I  had  not  risked  thee  to  win  the  Duke  of 

411 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

Buckingham  —  ay,  and  the  kingdom  of  England  to 
boot.   So  now,  wilt  thou  be  ruled  and  go  on  with  me?' 

Zarah,  or  Fenella,  for  our  readers  must  have  been  long 
aware  of  the  identity  of  these  two  personages,  cast  down 
her  eyes,  and  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  'Christian,' 
she  said  at  last,  in  a  solemn  voice,  '  if  my  ideas  of  right 
and  of  wrong  be  wild  and  incoherent,  I  owe  it,  first,  to 
the  wild  fever  which  my  native  sun  communicated  to  my 
veins;  next,  to  my  childhood,  trained  amidst  the  shifts, 
tricks,  and  feats  of  jugglers  and  mountebanks;  and  then, 
to  a  youth  of  fraud  and  deception,  through  the  course 
thou  didst  prescribe  me,  in  which  I  might,  indeed,  hear 
everything,  but  communicate  with  no  one.  The  last 
cause  of  my  wild  errors,  if  such  they  are,  originates,  O 
Christian,  with  you  alone,  by  whose  intrigues  I  was 
placed  with  yonder  lady,  and  who  taught  me  that  to 
revenge  my  father's  death  was  my  first  great  duty  on 
earth,  and  that  I  was  bound  by  nature  to  hate  and  in- 
jure her  by  whom  I  was  fed  and  fostered,  though  as  she 
would  have  fed  and  caressed  a  dog  or  any  other  mute 
animal.  I  also  think  —  for  I  will  deal  fairly  with  you  — 
that  you  had  not  so  easily  detected  your  niece  in  the 
child  whose  suprising  agility  was  making  yonder  brutal 
mountebank's  fortune,  nor  so  readily  induced  him  to 
part  with  his  bond-slave,  had  you  not,  for  your  own 
purposes,  placed  me  under  his  charge,  and  reserved  the 
privilege  of  claiming  me  when  you  pleased.  I  could  not, 
under  any  other  tuition,  have  identified  myself  with  the 
personage  of  a  mute,  which  it  has  been  your  desire  that 
I  should  perform  through  life.' 

'You  do  me  injustice,  Zarah,'  said  Christian.  'I  found 
you  capable  of  discharging,  to  an  uncommon  degree,  a 

412 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

task  necessary  to  the  avenging  of  your  father's  death; 
I  consecrated  you  to  it,  as  I  consecrated  my  own  hfe  and 
hopes;  and  you  held  the  duty  sacred  till  these  mad  feel- 
ings towards  a  youth  who  loves  your  cousin  — ' 

'Who  —  loves  —  my  —  cousin!'  repeated  Zarah  (for 
we  will  continue  to  call  her  by  her  real  name),  slowly, 
and  as  if  the  words  dropped  unconsciously  from  her  lips. 
'Well  —  be  it  so!  Man  of  many  wiles,  I  will  follow  thy 
course  for  a  little,  a  very  httle,  farther;  but  take  heed, 
teaze  me  not  with  remonstrances  against  the  treasure 
of  my  secret  thoughts  —  I  mean  my  most  hopeless  affec- 
tion to  Julian  Peveril  —  and  bring  me  not  as  an  assist- 
ant to  any  snare  which  you  may  design  to  cast  around 
him.  You  and  your  duke  shall  rue  the  hour  most  bit- 
terly in  which  you  provoke  me.  You  may  suppose  you 
have  me  in  your  power;  but  remember,  the  snakes  of 
my  burning  climate  are  never  so  fatal  as  when  you  grasp 
them.' 

*I  care  not  for  these  Peverils,'  said  Christian  —  'I 
care  not  for  their  fate  a  poor  straw,  unless  where  it  bears 
on  that  of  the  destined  woman,  whose  hands  are  red  in 
your  father's  blood.  BeHeve  me,  I  can  divide  her  fate 
and  theirs.  I  will  explain  to  you  how.  And  for  the  duke, 
he  may  pass  among  men  of  the  town  for  wit,  and  among 
soldiers  for  valour,  among  courtiers  for  manners  and  for 
form;  and  why,  with  his  high  rank  and  immense  fortune, 
you  should  throw  away  an  opportunity  which,  as  I  could 
now  improve  it  — ' 

'Speak  not  of  it,'  said  Zarah,  'if  thou  wouldst  have  our 
truce  —  remember  it  is  no  peace  —  if,  I  say,  thou  wouldst 
have  our  truce  grow  to  be  an  hour  old.' 

'This,  then,'  said  Christian,  with  a  last  effort  to  work 

413 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

upon  the  vanity  of  this  singular  being,  'is  she  who  pre- 
tended such  superiority  to  human  passion,  that  she 
could  walk  indifferently  and  unmoved  through  the  halls 
of  the  prosperous  and  the  prison-cells  of  the  captive, 
unknowing  and  unknown  —  sympathising  neither  with 
the  pleasures  of  the  one  nor  the  woes  of  the  other,  but 
advancing  with  sure,  though  silent,  steps  her  own  plans, 
in  despite  and  regardless  of  either  — !' 

'My  own  plans!'  said  Zarah.  ^Thy  plans,  Christian 
—  thy  plans  of  extorting  from  the  surprised  prisoners 
means  whereby  to  convict  them  —  thine  own  plans, 
formed  with  those  more  powerful  than  thyself,  to  sound 
men's  secrets,  and  by  using  them  as  matter  of  accusa- 
tion, to  keep  up  the  great  delusion  of  the  nation.' 

'Such  access  was  indeed  given  you  as  my  agent,'  said 
Christian,  'and  for  advancing  a  great  national  change. 
But  how  did  you  use  it?  —  to  advance  your  own  insane 
passion/ 

'Insane!'  said  Zarah.  'Had  he  been  less  than  insane 
whom  I  addressed,  he  and  I  had  ere  now  been  far  from  the 
toils  which  you  have  pitched  for  us  both.  I  had  means 
prepared  for  everything;  and  ere  this  the  shores  of 
Britain  had  been  lost  to  our  sight  for  ever.' 

'The  miserable  dwarf,  too,'  said  Christian.  'Was  it 
worthy  of  you  to  delude  that  poor  creature  with  flatter- 
ing visions  —  lull  him  asleep  with  drugs?  Was  that  my 
doing? ' 

'He  was  my  destined  tool,'  said  Zarah,  haughtily.  'I 
remembered  your  lessons  too  well  not  to  use  him  as  such. 
Yet  scorn  him  not  too  much.  I  tell  you,  that  yon  very 
miserable  dwarf,  whom  I  made  my  sport  in  the  prison  — 
yon  wretched  abortion  of  nature  I  would  select  for  a 

414 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

husband  ere  I  would  marry  your  Buckingham;  the  vain 
and  imbecile  pigmy  has  yet  the  warm  heart  and  noble 
feelings  that  a  man  should  hold  his  highest  honour.' 

'  In  God's  name,  then,  take  your  own  way,'  said  Christ- 
ian; 'and,  for  my  sake,  let  never  man  hereafter  limit 
a  woman  in  the  use  of  her  tongue,  since  he  must  make  it 
amply  up  to  her  in  allowing  her  the  privilege  of  her  own 
will.  Who  would  have  thought  it?  But  the  colt  has 
slipped  the  bridle,  and  I  must  needs  follow,  since  I 
cannot  guide  her.' 

Our  narrative  returns  to  the  court  of  King  Charles  at 
WhitehaU. 


CHAPTER    XLVIII 

ButOl 
What  shall  I  say  to  thee,  Lord  Scroop,  thou  cruel, 
Ingrateful,  savage,  and  inhuman  creature? 
Thou  that  didst  bear  the  key  of  all  my  counsels, 
That  knew'st  the  very  bottom  of  my  soul, 
That  almost  mightst  have  coin'd  me  into  gold, 
Wouldst  thou  have  practised  on  me  for  thy  usel 

Benry  V. 

At  no  period  of  his  life,  not  even  when  that  life  was  in 
imminent  danger,  did  the  constitutional  gaiety  of  Charles 
seem  more  overclouded  than  when  waiting  for  the  return 
of  Chiffinch  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  His  mind 
revolted  at  the  idea  that  the  person  to  whom  he  had 
been  so  particularly  indulgent,  and  whom  he  had  se- 
lected as  the  friend  of  his  Hghter  hours  and  amusements, 
should  prove  capable  of  having  tampered  with  a  plot 
apparently  directed  against  his  Hberty  and  life.  He 
more  than  once  examined  the  dwarf  anew,  but  could  ex- 
tract nothing  more  than  his  first  narrative  contained. 
The  apparition  of  the  female  to  him  in  the  cell  of  New- 
gate, he  described  in  such  fanciful  and  romantic  colours, 
that  the  King  could  not  help  thinking  the  poor  man's 
head  a  little  turned;  and,  as  nothing  was  found  in  the 
kettledrum  and  other  musical  instruments  brought  for 
the  use  of  the  duke's  band  of  foreigners,  he  nourished 
some  slight  hope  that  the  whole  plan  might  be  either  a 
mere  jest  or  that  the  idea  of  an  actual  conspiracy  was 
founded  in  mistake. 

The  persons  who  had  been  despatched  to  watch  the 
motions  of  Mr.  Weiver's  congregation  brought  back 

416 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

word  that  they  had  quietly  dispersed.  It  was  known,  at 
the  same  time,  that  they  had  met  in  arms,  but  this 
augured  no  particular  design  of  aggression  at  a  time 
when  all  true  Protestants  conceived  themselves  in 
danger  of  immediate  massacre;  when  the  fathers  of  the 
city  had  repeatedly  called  out  the  train-bands,  and 
alarmed  the  citizens  of  London,  under  the  idea  of  an 
instant  insurrection  of  the  Catholics;  and  when,  to  sum 
the  whole  up  in  the  emphatic  words  of  an  alderman  of 
the  day,  there  was  a  general  belief  that  they  would  all 
waken  some  unhappy  morning  with  their  throats  cut. 
Who  was  to  do  these  dire  deeds  it  was  more  difficult  to 
suppose;  but  all  admitted  the  possibility  that  they  might 
be  achieved,  since  one  justice  of  the  peace  was  already 
murdered.  There  was,  therefore,  no  inference  of  hostile 
intentions  against  the  state  to  be  decidedly  derived  from 
a  congregation  of  Protestants  par  excellence,  military 
from  old  associations,  bringing  their  arms  with  them 
to  a  place  of  worship,  in  the  midst  of  a  panic  so  uni- 
versal. 

Neither  did  the  violent  language  of  the  minister,  sup- 
posing that  to  be  proved,  absolutely  infer  meditated 
violence.  The  favourite  parables  of  the  preachers,  and 
the  metaphors  and  ornaments  which  they  selected,  were 
at  all  times  of  a  military  cast;  and  the  taking  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven  by  storm,  a  strong  and  beautiful  meta- 
phor when  used  generally,  as  in  Scripture,  was  detailed 
in  their  sermons  in  all  the  technical  language  of  the  at- 
tack and  defence  of  a  fortified  place.  The  danger,  in 
short,  whatever  might  have  been  its  actual  degree,  had 
disappeared  as  suddenly  as  a  bubble  upon  the  water, 
when  broken  by  a  casual  touch,  and  had  left  as  little 

28  417 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

trace  behind  it.  It  became,  therefore,  matter  of  much 
doubt  whether  it  had  ever  actually  existed. 

While  various  reports  were  making  from  without,  and 
while  their  tenor  was  discussed  by  the  King,  and  such 
nobles  and  statesmen  as  he  thought  proper  to  consult 
on  the  occasion,  a  gradual  sadness  and  anxiety  mingled 
with,  and  finally  silenced,  the  mirth  of  the  evening.  All 
became  sensible  that  something  unusual  was  going  for- 
ward; and  the  unwonted  distance  which  Charles  main- 
tained from  his  guests,  while  it  added  greatly  to  the  dul- 
ness  that  began  to  predominate  in  the  presence-chamber, 
gave  intimation  that  something  unusual  was  labouring 
in  the  King's  mind. 

Thus  gaming  was  neglected;  the  music  was  silent,  or 
played  without  being  heard;  gallants  ceased  to  make 
compliments,  and  ladies  to  expect  them;  and  a  sort  of 
apprehensive  curiosity  pervaded  the  circle.  Each  asked 
the  others  why  they  were  grave;  and  no  answer  was 
returned  anymore  than  could  have  been  rendered  by 
a  herd  of  cattle  instinctively  disturbed  by  the  approach 
of  a  thunderstorm. 

To  add  to  the  general  apprehension,  it  began  to  be 
whispered  that  one  or  two  of  the  guests,  who  were 
desirous  of  leaving  the  palace,  had  been  informed 
no  one  could  be  permitted  to  retire  until  the  general 
hour  of  dismissal.  And  these,  gliding  back  into  the 
hall,  communicated  in  whispers  that  the  sentinels  at 
the  gates  were  doubled,  and  that  there  was  a  troop 
of  the  Horse  Guards  drawn  up  in  the  court  —  circum- 
stances so  unusual  as  to  excite  the  most  anxious  curi- 
osity. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  court  when  wheels  were 

418 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

heard  without,  and  the  bustle  which  took  place  denoted 
the  arrival  of  some  person  of  consequence. 

'Here  comes  Chiffinch,'  said  the  King,  'with  his  prey 
in  his  clutch.' 

It  was  indeed  the  Duke  of  Buckingham;  nor  did  he 
approach  the  royal  presence  without  emotion.  On  enter- 
ing the  court,  the  flambeaux  which  were  borne  around 
the  carriage  gleamed  on  the  scarlet  coats,  laced  hats, 
and  drawn  broadswords  of  the  Horse  Guards  —  a  sight 
unusual,  and  calculated  to  strike  terror  into  a  conscience 
which  was  none  of  the  clearest. 

The  duke  alighted  from  the  carriage,  and  only  said 
to  the  officer  whom  he  saw  upon  duty,  'You  are  late 
under  arms  to-night.  Captain  Carleton.' 

'  Such  are  our  orders,  sir,'  answered  Carleton,  with  mil- 
itary brevity;  and  then  commanded  the  four  dismounted 
sentinels  at  the  under  gate  to  make  way  for  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham.  His  Grace  had  no  sooner  entered  than 
he  heard  behind  him  the  command,  'Move  close  up, 
sentinels  —  closer  yet  to  the  gate.'  And  he  felt  as  if 
all  chance  of  rescue  were  excluded  by  the  sound. 

As  he  advanced  up  the  grand  staircase,  there  were 
other  symptoms  of  alarm  and  precaution.  The  Yeomen 
of  the  Guard  were  mustered  in  unusual  numbers,  and 
carried  carabines  instead  of  their  halberds;  and  the  gen- 
tlemen pensioners,  with  their  partizans,  appeared  also 
in  proportional  force.  In  short,  all  that  sort  of  defence 
which  the  royal  household  possesses  within  itself 
seemed,  for  some  hasty  and  urgent  reason,  to  have  been 
placed  under  arms  and  upon  duty. 

Buckingham  ascended  the  royal  staircase  with  an  eye 
attentive  to  these  preparations,  and  a  step  steady  and 

419 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

slow,  as  if  he  counted  each  step  on  which  he  trode. 
'Who,'  he  asked  himself,  'shall  ensure  Christian's  fidel- 
ity? Let  him  but  stand  fast  and  we  are  secure;  other- 
wise — ' 

As  he  shaped  the  alternative,  he  entered  the  presence- 
chamber. 

The  King  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  apartment,  sur- 
rounded by  the  personages  with  whom  he  had  been  con- 
sulting. The  rest  of  the  brilliant  assembly,  scattered  into 
groups,  looked  on  at  some  distance.  All  were  silent  when 
Buckingham  entered,  in  hopes  of  receiving  some  explan- 
ation of  the  mysteries  of  the  evening.  All  bent  forward, 
though  etiquette  forbade  them  to  advance,  to  catch,  if 
possible,  something  of  what  was  about  to  pass  betwixt 
the  King  and  his  intriguing  statesman.  At  the  same 
time,  those  counsellors  who  stood  around  Charles  drew 
back  on  either  side,  so  as  to  permit  the  duke  to  pay  his 
respects  to  his  Majesty  in  the  usual  form.  He  went 
through  the  ceremonial  with  his  accustomed  grace,  but 
was  received  by  Charles  with  much  imwonted  gravity. 

*  We  have  waited  for  you  for  some  time,  my  lord  duke. 
It  is  long  since  Chiffinch  left  us,  to  request  your  attend- 
ance here.  I  see  you  are  elaborately  dressed.  Your 
toilette  was  needless  on  the  present  occasion.' 

'Needless  to  the  splendour  of  your  Majesty's  court,' 
said  the  duke,  'but  not  needless  on  my  part.  This 
chanced  to  be  Black  Monday  at  York  Place,  and  my  club 
of  Pendahles  were  in  full  glee  when  your  Majesty's  sum- 
mons arrived.  I  could  not  be  in  the  company  of  Ogle, 
Maniduc,  Dawson,  and  so  forth,  but  what  I  must  needs 
make  some  preparation,  and  some  ablution,  ere  entering 
the  circle  here.' 

420 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

*I  trust  the  purification  will  be  complete/  said  the 
King,  without  any  tendency  to  the  smile  which  always 
softened  features  that,  ungilded  by  its  influence,  were 
dark,  harsh,  and  even  severe.  'We  wished  to  ask  your 
Grace  concerning  the  import  of  a  sort  of  musical  mask 
which  you  designed  us  here,  but  which  miscarried,  as 
we  are  given  to  understand.' 

'It  must  have  been  a  great  miscarriage  indeed,'  said 
the  duke,  'since  your  Majesty  looks  so  serious  on  it. 
I  thought  to  have  done  your  Majesty  a  pleasure,  as  I 
have  seen  you  condescend  to  be  pleased  with  such  pass- 
ages, by  sending  the  contents  of  that  bass-viol;  but  I 
fear  the  jest  has  been  unacceptable  —  I  fear  the  fire- 
works may  have  done  mischief.' 

'Not  the  mischief  they  were  designed  for,  perhaps,' 
said  the  King,  gravely;  'you  see,  my  lord,  we  are  all  alive 
and  unsinged.' 

'Long  may  your  Majesty  remain  so,'  said  the  duke; 
*yet  I  see  that  there  is  something  misconstrued  on  my 
part;  it  must  be  a  matter  unpardonable,  however  little 
intended,  since  it  hath  displeased  so  indulgent  a  master.' 

'Too  indulgent  a  master,  indeed,  Buckingham,'  re- 
plied the  King;  'and  the  fruit  of  my  indulgence  has  been 
to  change  loyal  men  into  traitors.' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,  I  cannot  understand 
this,'  said  the  duke. 

'Follow us,  my  lord,'  answered  Charles,  'and  we  will 
endeavour  to  explain  our  meaning.' 

Attended  by  the  same  lords  who  stood  around  him, 
and  followed  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  on  whom  all 
eyes  were  fixed,  Charles  retired  into  the  same  cabinet 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  repeated  consultations  in 

421 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  course  of  the  evening.  There,  leaning  with  his  arms 
crossed  on  the  back  of  an  easy-chair,  Charles  proceeded 
to  interrogate  the  suspected  nobleman. 

'  Let  us  be  plain  with  each  other.  Speak  out,  Bucking- 
ham. What,  in  one  word,  was  to  have  been  the  regale 
intended  for  us  this  evening? ' 

'A  petty  mask,  my  lord.  I  had  destined  a  little  danc- 
ing-girl to  come  out  of  that  instrument,  who,  I  thought, 
would  have  performed  to  your  Majesty's  liking;  a  few 
Chinese  fireworks  there  were,  which,  thinking  the  enter- 
tainment was  to  have  taken  place  in  the  marble  hall, 
might,  I  hoped,  have  been  discharged  with  good  effect, 
and  without  the  slightest  alarm,  at  the  first  appearance 
of  my  Httle  sorceress,  and  were  designed  to  have  masked, 
as  it  were,  her  entrance  upon  the  stage.  I  hope  there 
have  been  no  perukes  singed,  no  ladies  frightened,  no 
hopes  of  noble  descent  interrupted  by  my  ill-fancied 
jest? ' 

*We  have  seen  no  such  fireworks,  my  lord;  and  your 
female  dancer,  of  whom  we  now  hear  for  the  first  time, 
came  forth  in  the  form  of  our  old  acquaintance  Geoffrey 
Hudson,  whose  dancing  days  are  surely  ended.' 

*  Your  Majesty  surprises  me !  I  beseech  you,  let  Christ- 
ian be  sent  for  —  Edward  Christian;  he  will  be  found 
lodging  in  a  large  old  house  near  Sharper  the  cutler's,  in 
the  Strand.  As  I  Hve  by  bread,  sire,  I  trusted  him  with 
the  arrangement  of  this  matter,  as  indeed  the  dancing- 
girl  was  his  property.  If  he  has  done  aught  to  dishonour 
my  concert  or  disparage  my  character,  he  shall  die  under 
the  baton.' 

'It  is  singular,'  said  the  King,  'and  I  have  often  ob- 
served it,  that  this  fellow  Christian  bears  the  blame  of 

422 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

all  men's  enormities:  he  performs  the  part  which  in  a 
great  family  is  usually  assigned  to  that  mischief-doing 
personage,  Nobody.  When  ChifSnch  blunders,  he  al- 
ways quotes  Christian.  When  Shefi&eld  writes  a  lam- 
poon, I  am  sure  to  hear  of  Christian  having  corrected, 
or  copied,  or  dispersed  it :  he  is  the  dme  damme  of  every 
one  about  my  court  —  the  scapegoat,  who  is  to  carry 
away  all  their  iniquities;  and  he  will  have  a  cruel  load 
to  bear  into  the  wilderness.  But  for  Buckingham's  sins, 
in  particular,  he  is  the  regular  and  uniform  sponsor; 
and  I  am  convinced  his  Grace  expects  Christian  should 
suffer  every  penalty  which  he  has  incurred  in  this  world 
or  the  next.' 

'Not  so,' with  the  deepest  reverence  repHed  the  duke. 
*I  have  no  hope  of  being  either  hanged  or  damned  by 
proxy ;  but  it  is  clear  some  one  hath  tampered  with  and 
altered  my  device.  If  I  am  accused  of  aught,  let  me  at 
least  hear  the  charge  and  see  my  accuser.' 

'That  is  but  fair,'  said  the  King.  'Bring  our  little 
friend  from  behind  the  chimney-board.'  Hudson  being 
accordingly  produced,  he  continued,  'There  stands  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham.  Repeat  before  him  the  tale  you 
told  us.  Let  him  hear  what  were  those  contents  of  the 
bass-viol  which  were  removed  that  you  might  enter 
it.  Be  not  afraid  of  any  one,  but  speak  the  truth 
boldly.' 

'May  it  please  your  Majesty,'  said  Hudson,  'fear  is  a 
thing  unknown  to  me.' 

'His  body  has  no  room  to  hold  such  a  passion;  or 
there  is  too  little  of  it  to  be  worth  fearing  for,'  said 
Buckingham.     'But  let  him  speak.' 

Ere  Hudson  had  completed  his  tale,  Buckingham  in- 

423 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

terrupted  him  by  exclaiming,  'Is  it  possible  that  I  can 
be  suspected  by  your  Majesty  on  the  word  of  this  pitiful 
variety  of  the  baboon  tribe? ' 

'Villain  lord,  I  appeal  thee  to  the  combat!'  said  the 
little  man,  highly  offended  at  the  appellation  thus  be- 
stowed on  him. 

'La  you  there  now!'  said  the  duke.  'The  httle  ani- 
mal is  quite  crazed,  and  defies  a  man  who  need  ask  no 
other  weapon  than  a  corking-pin  to  run  him  through  the 
lungs,  and  whose  single  kick  could  hoist  him  from  Dover 
to  Calais  without  yacht  or  wherry.  And  what  can  you 
expect  from  an  idiot,  who  is  engoue  of  a  common  rope- 
dancing  girl,  that  capered  on  a  packthread  at  Ghent 
in  Flanders,  unless  they  were  to  club  their  talents  to  set 
up  a  booth  at  Bartholomew  Fair?  Is  it  not  plain  that, 
supposing  the  little  animal  is  not  malicious,  as  indeed 
his  whole  kind  bear  a  general  and  most  cankered  malice 
against  those  who  have  the  ordinary  proportions  of  hu- 
manity —  grant,  I  say,  that  this  were  not  a  malicious 
falsehood  of  his,  why,  what  does  it  amount  to?  That 
he  has  mistaken  squibs  and  Chinese  crackers  for  arms. 
He  says  not  he  himself  touched  or  handled  them;  and 
judging  by  the  sight  alone,  I  question  if  the  infirm  old 
creature,  when  any  whim  or  preconception  hath  posses- 
sion of  his  noddle,  can  distinguish  betwixt  a  blunderbuss 
and  a  black-pudding.' 

The  horrible  clamour  which  the  dwarf  made  so  soon 
as  he  heard  this  disparagement  of  his  military  skill,  the 
haste  with  which  he  blundered  out  a  detail  of  his  warlike 
experiences,  and  the  absurd  grimaces  which  he  made  in 
order  to  enforce  his  story,  provoked  not  only  the  risibil- 
ity of  Charles,  but  even  of  the  statesmen  around  him, 

424 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  added  absurdity  to  the  motley  complexion  of  the 
scene. 

The  King  terminated  his  dispute  by  commanding  the 
dwarf  to  withdraw. 

A  more  regular  discussion  of  his  evidence  was  then  re- 
sumed, and  Ormond  was  the  first  who  pointed  out  that 
it  went  farther  than  had  been  noticed,  since  the  Httle  man 
had  mentioned  a  certain  extraordinary  and  treasonable 
conversation  held  by  the  duke's  dependants,  by  whom 
he  had  been  conveyed  to  the  palace, 

*I  am  sure  not  to  lack  my  Lord  of  Ormond 's  good 
word,'  said  the  duke,  scornfully;  'but  I  defy  him  alike 
and  all  my  other  enemies,  and  shall  find  it  easy  to  show 
that  this  alleged  conspiracy,  if  any  grounds  for  it  at  all 
exist,  is  a  mere  sham  plot,  got  up  to  turn  the  odium 
justly  attached  to  the  Papists  upon  the  Protestants. 
Here  is  a  half-hanged  creature,  who,  on  the  very  day 
he  escapes  from  the  gallows,  which  many  believe  was  his 
most  deserved  destiny,  comes  to  take  away  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  Protestant  peer.  And  on  what?  On  the  treason- 
able conversation  of  three  or  four  German  fiddlers, 
heard  through  the  sound-holes  of  a  violoncello,  and 
that,  too,  when  the  creature  was  incased  in  it,  and 
mounted  on  a  man's  shoulders!  The  urchin,  too,  in 
repeating  their  language,  shows  he  understands  Ger- 
man as  little  as  my  horse  does;  and  if  he  did  rightly  hear, 
truly  comprehend,  and  accurately  report  what  they  said, 
still,  is  my  honour  to  be  touched  by  the  language  held 
by  such  persons  as  these  are,  with  whom  I  have  never 
communicated,  otherwise  than  men  of  my  rank  do  with 
those  of  their  calling  and  capacity?  Pardon  me,  sire, 
if  I  presume  to  say  that  the  profound  statesmen  who 

425 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

endeavoured  to  stifle  the  Popish  conspiracy  by  the  pre- 
tended Meal-tub  Plot  will  take  little  more  credit  by  their 
figments  about  fiddles  and  concertos.' 

The  assistant  counsellors  looked  at  each  other;  and 
Charles  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  through  the  room 
with  long  steps. 

At  this  period  the  Peverils,  father  and  son,  were  an- 
nounced to  have  reached  the  palace,  and  were  ordered 
into  the  royal  presence. 

These  gentlemen  had  received  the  royal  mandate  at  a 
moment  of  great  interest.  After  being  dismissed  from 
their  confinement  by  the  elder  Bridgenorth,  in  the  man- 
ner and  upon  the  terms  which  the  reader  must  have 
gathered  from  the  conversation  of  the  latter  with  Chris- 
tian, they  reached  the  lodgings  of  Lady  Peveril,  who 
awaited  them  with  joy,  mingled  with  terror  and  uncer- 
tainty. The  news  of  the  acquittal  had  reached  her  by 
the  exertions  of  the  faithful  Lance  Outram,  but  her  mind 
had  been  since  harassed  by  the  long  delay  of  their  ap- 
pearance, and  rumours  of  disturbances  which  had  taken 
place  in  Fleet  Street  and  in  the  Strand. 

When  the  first  rapturous  meeting  was  over,  Lady 
Peveril,  with  an  anxious  look  towards  her  son,  as  if 
recommending  caution,  said  she  was  now  about  to  pre- 
sent to  him  the  daughter  of  an  old  friend,  whom  he  had 
never  (there  was  an  emphasis  on  the  word)  seen  before. 
'This  young  lady,'  she  continued,  'was  the  only  child 
of  Colonel  Mitford,  in  North  Wales,  who  had  sent  her 
to  remain  under  her  guardianship  for  an  interval,  find- 
ing himself  unequal  to  attempt  the  task  of  her  educa- 
tion.' 

'Ay  —  ay,'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  'Dick  Mitford  must  be 
426 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

old  now  —  beyond  the  threescore  and  ten,  I  think.  He 
was  no  chicken,  though  a  cock  of  the  game,  when  he 
joined  the  Marquis  of  Hertford  at  Namptwich  with  two 
hundred  wild  Welshmen.  Before  George,  Julian,  I  love 
that  girl  as  if  she  was  my  own  flesh  and  blood!  Lady 
Peveril  would  never  have  got  through  this  work  without 
her.  And  Dick  Mitford  sent  me  a  thousand  pieces,  too, 
in  excellent  time,  when  there  was  scarce  a  cross  to  keep 
the  devil  from  dancing  in  our  pockets,  much  more  for 
these  law-doings.  I  used  it  without  scruple,  for  there  is 
wood  ready  to  be  cut  at  Martindale  when  we  get  down 
there,  and  Dick  Mitford  knows  I  would  have  done  the 
hke  for  him.  Strange  that  he  should  have  been  the  only 
one  of  my  friends  to  reflect  I  might  want  a  few  pieces.' 
Whilst  Sir  Geoffrey  thus  run  on,  the  meeting  betwixt 
AHce  and  Julian  Peveril  was  accompKshed,  without  any 
particular  notice  on  his  side,  except  to  say,  'Kiss  her, 
Julian  —  kiss  her.  What  the  devil !  is  that  the  way  you 
learned  to  accost  a  lady  at  the  Isle  of  Man,  as  if  her  Hps 
were  a  red-hot  horseshoe?  And  do  not  you  be  offended, 
my  pretty  one ;  Julian  is  naturally  bashful,  and  has  been 
bred  by  an  old  lady,  but  you  will  find  him,  by  and  by, 
as  gallant  as  thou  hast  found  me,  my  princess.  And 
now.  Dame  Peveril,  to  dinner  —  to  dinner!  The  old  fox 
must  have  his  belly  timber,  though  the  hounds  have 
been  after  him  the  whole  day.' 

Lance,  whose  joyous  congratulations  were  next  to  be 
undergone,  had  the  consideration  to  cut  them  short,  in 
order  to  provide  a  plain  but  hearty  meal  from  the  next 
cook's  shop,  at  which  Julian  sat  like  one  enchanted  be- 
twixt his  mistress  and  his  mother.  He  easily  conceived 
that  the  last  was  the  confidential  friend  to  whom  Bridge- 

427 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

north  had  finally  committed  the  charge  of  his  daughter, 
and  his  only  anxiety  now  was  to  anticipate  the  confusion 
that  was  likely  to  arise  when  her  real  parentage  was 
made  known  to  his  father.  Wisely,  however,  he  suffered 
not  these  anticipations  to  interfere  with  the  delight  of 
his  present  situation,  in  the  course  of  which  many  slight 
but  delightful  tokens  of  recognition  were  exchanged, 
without  censure,  under  the  eye  of  Lady  Peveril,  under 
cover  of  the  boisterous  mirth  of  the  old  baronet,  who 
spoke  for  two,  ate  for  four,  and  drank  wine  for  half  a 
dozen.  His  progress  in  the  latter  exercise  might  have 
proceeded  rather  too  far,  had  he  not  been  interrupted  by 
a  gentleman  bearing  the  King's  orders  that  he  should 
instantly  attend  upon  the  presence  at  Whitehall,  and 
bring  his  son  along  with  him. 

Lady  Peveril  was  alarmed,  and  AUce  grew  pale  with 
sympathetic  anxiety;  but  the  old  knight,  who  never  saw 
more  than  what  lay  straight  before  him,  set  it  down  to 
the  King's  hasty  anxiety  to  congratulate  him  on  his  es- 
cape —  an  interest  on  his  Majesty's  part  which  he  con- 
sidered by  no  means  extravagant,  conscious  that  it  was 
reciprocal  on  his  own  side.  It  came  upon  him,  indeed, 
with  the  more  joyful  surprise,  that  he  had  received  a 
previous  hint,  ere  he  left  the  court  of  justice,  that  it 
would  be  prudent  in  him  to  go  down  to  Martindale  be- 
fore presenting  himself  at  court  —  a  restriction  which 
he  supposed  as  repugnant  to  his  Majesty's  feelings  as  it 
was  to  his  own. 

While  he  consulted  with  Lance  Outram  about  clean- 
ing his  buff-belt  and  sword-hilt,  as  well  as  time  admitted, 
Lady  Peveril  had  the  means  to  give  Julian  more  distinct 
information,  that  AUce  was  under  her  protection  by  her 

428 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

father's  authority,  and  with  his  consent  to  their  union, 
if  it  could  be  accomplished.  She  added,  that  it  was  her 
determination  to  employ  the  mediation  of  the  Countess 
of  Derby  to  overcome  the  obstacles  which  might  be 
foreseen  on  the  part  of  Sir  Geoffrey. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 


In  the  King's  name, 

Let  fall  your  swords  and  daggers  t 

Critic. 


When  the  father  and  son  entered  the  cabinet  of  audi- 
ence, it  was  easily  visible  that  Sir  Geoffrey  had  obeyed 
the  summons  as  he  woidd  have  done  the  trumpet's  call 
to  horse;  and  his  dishevelled  grey  locks  and  half-ar- 
ranged dress,  though  they  showed  zeal  and  haste,  such 
as  he  would  have  used  when  Charles  I  called  him  to  at- 
tend a  council  of  war,  seemed  rather  indecorous  in  a 
pacific  drawing-room.  He  paused  at  the  door  of  the 
cabinet,  but  when  the  King  called  on  him  to  advance, 
came  hastily  forward,  with  every  feeling  of  his  earlier 
and  later  life  afloat  and  contending  in  his  memory,  threw 
himself  on  his  knees  before  the  King,  seized  his  hand, 
and,  without  even  an  effort  to  speak,  wept  aloud. 
Charles,  who  generally  felt  deeply  so  long  as  an  impres- 
sive object  was  before  his  eyes,  indulged  for  a  moment 
the  old  man's  rapture.  'My  good  Sir  Geoffrey,'  he 
said,  'you  have  had  some  hard  measure;  we  owe  you 
amends,  and  will  find  time  to  pay  our  debt.' 

*No  suffering  —  no  debt,'  said  the  old  man.  'I  cared 
not  what  the  rogues  said  of  me ;  I  knew  they  could  never 
get  twelve  honest  fellows  to  believe  a  word  of  their  most 
damnable  Hes.  I  did  long  to  beat  them  when  they  called 
me  traitor  to  your  Majesty,  that  I  confess.  But  to  have 
such  an  early  opportunity  of  paying  my  duty  to  your 

430 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Majesty  overpays  it  all.  The  villains  would  have  per- 
suaded me  I  ought  not  to  come  to  court  —  aha ! ' 

The  Duke  of  Ormond  perceived  that  the  King  col- 
oured much;  for  in  truth  it  was  from  the  court  that  the 
private  intimation  had  been  given  to  Sir  Geoffrey  to  go 
down  to  the  country  without  appearing  at  Whitehall; 
and  he,  moreover,  suspected  that  the  jolly  old  knight 
had  not  risen  from  his  dinner  altogether  dry-lipped,  after 
the  fatigues  of  a  day  so  agitating.  'My  old  friend,'  he 
whispered,  'you  forget  that  your  son  is  to  be  presented; 
permit  me  to  have  that  honour.' 

'I  crave  your  Grace's  pardon  humbly,'  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey, '  but  it  is  an  honour  I  design  for  myself,  as  I  appre- 
hend no  one  can  so  utterly  surrender  and  dehver  him 
up  to  his  Majesty's  service  as  the  father  that  begot  him 
is  entitled  to  do.  JuHan,  come  forward  and  kneel.  Here 
he  is,  please  your  Majesty  —  JuHan  Peveril  —  a  chip  of 
the  old  block  —  as  stout,  though  scarce  so  tall,  a  tree 
as  the  old  trunk  when  at  the  freshest.  Take  him  to  you, 
sir,  for  a  faithful  servant,  a  vendre  et  a  prendre,  as  the 
French  say;  if  he  fears  fire  or  steel,  axe  or  gallows,  in 
your  Majesty's  service,  I  renounce  him  —  he  is  no  son  of 
mine  —  I  disown  him,  and  he  may  go  to  the  Isle  of  Man, 
the  Isle  of  Dogs,  or  the  Isle  of  Devils,  for  what  I  care.' 

Charles  winked  to  Ormond,  and  having,  with  his 
wonted  courtesy,  expressed  his  thorough  conviction 
that  JuHan  would  imitate  the  loyalty  of  his  ancestors, 
and  especially  of  his  father,  added,  that  he  believed  his 
Grace  of  Ormond  had  something  to  communicate  which 
was  of  consequence  to  his  service.  Sir  Geoffrey  made  his 
military  reverence  at  this  hint,  and  marched  off  in  the 
rear  of  the  duke,  who  proceeded  to  inquire  of  him  con- 

431 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cerning  the  events  of  the  day.  Charles,  in  the  mean- 
while, having,  in  the  first  place,  ascertained  that  the  son 
was  not  in  the  same  genial  condition  with  the  father, 
demanded  and  received  from  him  a  precise  account  of  all 
the  proceedings  subsequent  to  the  trial. 

JuHan,  with  the  plainness  and  precision  which  such 
a  subject  demanded,  when  treated  in  such  a  presence, 
narrated  all  that  had  happened,  down  to  the  entrance  of 
Bridgenorth;  and  his  Majesty  was  so  much  pleased  with 
his  manner,  that  he  congratulated  Arlington  on  their 
having  gained  the  evidence  of  at  least  one  man  of  sense 
to  these  dark  and  mysterious  events.  But  when  Bridge- 
north  was  brought  upon  the  scene,  Julian  hesitated  to 
bestow  a  name  upon  him;  and  although  he  mentioned 
the  chapel  which  he  had  seen  filled  with  men  in  arms, 
and  the  violent  language  of  the  preacher,  he  added,  with 
earnestness,  that  notwithstanding  all  this,  the  men  de- 
parted without  coming  to  any  extremity,  and  had  all  left 
the  place  before  his  father  and  he  were  set  at  hberty. 

'And  you  retired  quietly  to  your  dinner  in  Fleet 
Street,  young  man,'  said  the  King,  severely,  'without 
giving  a  magistrate  notice  of  the  dangerous  meeting 
which  was  held  in  the  vicinity  of  our  palace,  and  who 
did  not  conceal  their  intention  of  proceeding  to  extrem- 
ities? ' 

Peveril  blushed  and  was  silent.  The  King  frowned, 
and  stepped  aside  to  communicate  with  Ormond,  who 
reported  that  the  father  seemed  to  have  known  nothing 
of  the  matter. 

'And  the  son,  I  am  sorry  to  say,'  said  the  King,  'seems 
more  unwilling  to  speak  the  truth  than  I  should  have  ex- 
pected. We  have  all  variety  of  evidence  in  this  singular 

432 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

investigation  —  a  mad  witness  like  the  dwarf,  a  drunken 
witness  like  the  father,  and  now  a  dumb  witness.  Young 
man,'  he  continued,  addressing  Julian,  'your  behaviour 
is  less  frank  than  I  expected  from  your  father's  son.  I 
must  know  who  this  person  is  with  whom  you  held  such 
familiar  intercourse;  you  know  him,  I  presume?' 

Julian  acknowledged  that  he  did,  but,  kneeling  on  one 
knee,  entreated  his  Majesty's  forgiveness  for  concealing 
his  name.  'He  had  been  freed,'  he  said,  'from  his  con- 
finement on  promising  to  that  effect.' 

'That  was  a  promise  made,  by  your  own  account, 
under  compulsion,'  answered  the  King,  'and  I  cannot 
authorise  your  keeping  it;  it  is  your  duty  to  speak  the 
truth.  If  you  are  afraid  of  Buckingham,  the  duke  shall 
withdraw.' 

'I  have  no  reason  to  fear  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,' 
said  Peveril;  'that  I  had  an  affair  with  one  of  his  house- 
hold was  the  man's  own  fault,  and  not  mine.' 

'  Odds-fish ! '  said  the  King,  '  the  light  begins  to  break 
in  on  me;  I  thought  I  remembered  thy  physiognomy. 
Wert  thou  not  the  very  fellow  whom  I  met  at  Chiffinch's 
yonder  morning?  The  matter  escaped  me  since;  but 
now  I  recollect  thou  saidst  then  that  thou  wert  the  son 
of  that  jolly  old  three-bottle  baronet  yonder.' 

'It  is  true,'  said  Julian,  'that  I  met  your  Majesty  at 
Master  Chiffinch's,  and  I  am  afraid  had  the  misfortune 
to  displease  you ;  but  — ' 

*No  more  of  that,  young  man  —  no  more  of  that. 
But  I  recollect  you  had  with  you  that  beautiful  dancing 
siren.  Buckingham,  I  will  hold  you  gold  to  silver  that 
she  was  the  intended  tenant  of  that  bass-fiddle? ' 

'Your  Majesty  has  rightly  guessed  it,'  said  the  duke; 

«8  433 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

'and  I  suspect  she  has  put  a  trick  upon  me  by  substitut- 
ing the  dwarf  in  her  place ;  for  Christian  thinks  — ' 

'Damn  Christian!'  said  the  King,  hastily.  *I  wish 
they  would  bring  him  hither,  that  universal  referee.' 
And  as  the  wish  was  uttered,  Christian's  arrival  was  an- 
nounced. *  Let  him  attend,'  said  the  King.  *  But  hark  — 
a  thought  strikes  me.  Here,  Master  Peveril  —  yonder 
dancing  maiden,  that  introduced  you  to  us  by  the  sin- 
gular agility  of  her  performance,  is  she  not,  by  your 
account,  a  dependant  on  the  Countess  of  Derby?' 

'I  have  known  her  such  for  years,'  answered  Julian. 

'Then  will  we  call  the  countess  hither,'  said  the  King. 
*It  is  fit  we  should  learn  who  this  little  fairy  really  is; 
and  if  she  be  now  so  absolutely  at  the  beck  of  Bucking- 
ham and  this  Master  Christian  of  his  —  why,  I  think 
it  would  be  but  charity  to  let  her  ladyship  know  so 
much,  since  I  question  if  she  will  wish,  in  that  case,  to 
retain  her  in  her  service.  Besides,'  he  continued,  speak- 
ing apart,  'this  Julian,  to  whom  suspicion  attaches  in 
these  matters  from  his  obstinate  silence,  is  also  of  the 
countess's  household.  We  will  sift  this  matter  to  the 
bottom,  and  do  justice  to  all.' 

The  Countess  of  Derby,  hastily  summoned,  entered 
the  royal  closet  at  one  door,  just  as  Christian  and  Za- 
rah,  or  Fenella,  were  ushered  in  by  the  other.  The  old 
knight  of  Martindale,  who  had  ere  this  returned  to  the 
presence,  was  scarce  controlled,  even  by  the  signs  which 
she  made,  so  much  was  he  desirous  of  greeting  his  old 
friend;  but  as  Ormond  laid  a  kind  restraining  hand  upon 
his  arm,  he  was  prevailed  on  to  sit  still. 

The  countess,  after  a  deep  reverence  to  the  King, 
acknowledged  the  rest  of  the  nobility  present  by  a 

434 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

slighter  reverence,  smiled  to  Julian  Peveril,  and  looked 
with  surprise  at  the  unexpected  apparition  of  Fenella. 
Buckingham  bit  his  lip,  for  he  saw  the  introduction  of 
Lady  Derby  was  Ukely  to  confuse  and  embroil  every 
preparation  which  he  had  arranged  for  his  defence ;  and 
he  stole  a  glance  at  Christian,  whose  eye,  when  fixed 
on  the  countess,  assumed  the  deadly  sharpness  which 
sparkles  in  the  adder's,  while  his  cheek  grew  almost 
black  under  the  influence  of  strong  emotion. 

*Is  there  any  one  in  this  presence  whom  your  lady- 
ship recognises,'  said  the  King  graciously,  'besides  your 
old  friends  of  Ormond  and  Arlington? ' 

*I  see,  my  liege,  two  worthy  friends  of  my  husband's 
house,'  repUed  the  countess  —  'Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  and 
his  son,  the  latter  a  distinguished  member  of  my  son's 
household.' 

'Any  one  else?'  continued  the  King. 

'An  unfortunate  female  of  my  family,  who  disap- 
peared from  the  Island  of  Man  at  the  same  time  when 
JuHan  Peveril  left  it  upon  business  of  importance.  She 
was  thought  to  have  fallen  from  the  chff  into  the 
sea.' 

'Had  your  ladyship  any  reason  to  suspect  —  pardon 
me,'  said  the  King,  'for  putting  such  a  question  —  any 
improper  intimacy  between  Master  Peveril  and  this 
same  female  attendant?' 

'My  liege,'  said  the  countess,  colouring  indignantly, 
'my  household  is  of  reputation.' 

'Nay,  my  lady,  be  not  angry,'  said  the  King;  'I  did 
but  ask;  such  things  will  befall  in  the  best  regulated 
famihes.' 

'Not  in  mine,  sire,'  said  the  countess.   'Besides  that, 

435 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

in  common  pride  and  in  common  honesty,  Julian  Peveril 
is  incapable  of  intriguing  with  an  unhappy  creature,  re- 
moved by  her  misfortune  almost  beyond  the  limits  of 
humanity.' 

Zarah  looked  at  her,  and  compressed  her  lips,  as  if 
to  keep  in  the  words  that  would  fain  break  from 
them. 

'I  know  not  how  it  is,'  said  the  King.  'What  your 
ladyship  says  may  be  true  in  the  main,  yet  men's  tastes 
have  strange  vagaries.  This  girl  is  lost  in  Man  so  soon 
as  the  youth  leaves  it,  and  is  found  in  St.  James's  Park, 
bouncing  and  dancing  like  a  fairy,  so  soon  as  he  appears 
in  London.' 

'Impossible!'  said  the  countess;  'she  cannot  dance.' 

'I  believe,'  said  the  Kjng,  'she  can  do  more  feats 
than  your  ladyship  either  suspects  or  would  approve 
of.' 

The  countess  drew  up  and  was  indignantly  silent. 

The  King  proceeded  —  'No  sooner  is  Peveril  in  New- 
gate than,  by  the  account  of  the  venerable  little  gentle- 
man, this  merry  maiden  is  even  there  also  for  company. 
Now,  without  inquiring  how  she  got  in,  I  think  char- 
itably that  she  had  better  taste  than  to  come  there  on 
the  dwarf's  account.  Ah  ha!  I  think  Master  Julian  is 
touched  in  conscience! ' 

Julian  did  indeed  start  as  the  King  spoke,  for  it  re- 
minded him  of  the  midnight  visit  in  his  cell. 

The  King  looked  fixedly  at  him,  and  then  proceeded 
—  '  Well,  gentlemen,  Peveril  is  carried  to  his  trial,  and  is 
no  sooner  at  liberty  than  we  find  him  in  the  house  where 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  arranging  what  he  calls  a 
musical  mask.   Egad,  I  hold  it  next  to  certain  that  this 

436 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

wench  put  the  change  on  his  Grace,  and  popt  the  poor 
dwarf  into  the  bass-viol,  reserving  her  own  more  precious 
hours  to  be  spent  with  Master  Julian  Peveril.  Think 
you  not  so.  Sir  Christian  —  you,  the  universal  referee? 
Is  there  any  truth  in  this  conjecture? ' 

Christian  stole  a  glance  on  Zarah,  and  read  that  in  her 
eye  which  embarrassed  him.  '  He  did  not  know,'  he  said. 
'He  had  indeed  engaged  this  unrivalled  performer  to 
take  the  proposed  part  in  the  mask;  and  she  was  to  have 
come  forth  in  the  midst  of  a  shower  of  lambent  fire,  very 
artificially  prepared  with  perfumes,  to  overcome  the 
smell  of  the  powder ;  but  he  knew  not  why  —  excepting 
that  she  was  wilful  and  capricious,  like  all  great  geniuses 
—  she  had  certainly  spoiled  the  concert  by  cramming  in 
that  more  bulky  dwarf.' 

*I  should  Uke,'  said  the  King,  'to  see  this  little 
maiden  stand  forth  and  bear  witness,  in  such  manner 
as  she  can  express  herself,  on  this  mysterious  matter. 
Can  any  one  here  understand  her  mode  of  communica- 
tion?' 

Christian  said  he  knew  something  of  it  since  he  had 
become  acquainted  with  her  in  London.  The  countess 
spoke  not  till  the  King  asked  her,  and  then  owned  drily, 
that  *  She  had  necessarily  some  habitual  means  of  inter- 
course with  one  who  had  been  immediately  about  her 
person  for  so  many  years.' 

*  I  should  think,'  said  Charles,  'that  this  same  Master 
Julian  Peveril  has  the  more  direct  key  to  her  language, 
after  all  we  have  heard.' 

The  King  looked  first  at  Peveril,  who  blushed  like  a 
maiden  at  the  inference  which  the  King's  remark  im- 
plied, and  then  suddenly  turned  his  eyes  on  the  supposed 

437 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

mute,  on  whose  cheek  a  faint  colour  was  dying  away.  A 
moment  afterwards,  at  a  signal  from  the  countess, 
Fenella,  or  Zarah,  stepped  forward,  and  having  kneeled 
down  and  kissed  her  lady's  hand,  stood  with  her  arms 
folded  on  her  breast,  with  an  humble  air,  as  different 
from  that  which  she  wore  in  the  harem  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  as  that  of  a  Magdalen  from  a  Judith.  Yet 
this  was  the  least  show  of  her  talent  of  versatiHty,  for 
so  well  did  she  play  the  part  of  the  dumb  girl,  that  Buck- 
ingham, sharp  as  his  discernment  was,  remained  unde- 
cided whether  the  creature  which  stood  before  him  could 
possibly  be  the  same  with  her  who  had,  in  a  different 
dress,  made  such  an  impression  on  his  imagination,  or 
indeed  was  the  imperfect  creature  she  now  represented. 
She  had  at  once  all  that  could  mark  the  imperfection  of 
hearing,  and  all  that  could  show  the  wonderful  address 
by  which  nature  so  often  makes  up  for  the  deficiency. 
There  was  the  lip  that  trembled  not  at  any  sound ;  the 
seeming  insensibility  to  the  conversation  which  passed 
around ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  quick  and  vivid 
glance,  that  seemed  anxious  to  devour  the  meaning  of 
those  sounds  which  she  could  gather  no  otherwise  than 
by  the  motion  of  the  Hps. 

Examined  after  her  own  fashion,  Zarah  confirmed  the 
tale  of  Christian  in  all  its  points,  and  admitted  that  she 
had  deranged  the  project  laid  for  a  mask,  by  placing  the 
dwarf  in  her  own  stead;  the  cause  of  her  doing  so  she 
declined  to  assign,  and  the  countess  pressed  her  no 
farther. 

'Everything  tells  to  exculpate  my  Lord  of  Bucking- 
ham,' said  Charles,  'from  so  absurd  an  accusation:  the 
dwarf's  testimony  is  too  fantastic;  that  of  the  two  Pever- 

438 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

ils  does  not  in  the  least  affect  the  duke;  that  of  the  dumb 
damsel  completely  contradicts  the  possibility  of  his 
guilt.  Methinks,  my  lords,  we  should  acquaint  him  that 
he  stands  acquitted  of  a  complaint  too  ridiculous  to  have 
ever  been  subjected  to  a  more  serious  scrutiny  than  we 
have  hastily  made  upon  this  occasion.' 

Arlington  bowed  in  acquiescence;  but  Ormond  spoke 
plainly.  *  I  should  suffer,  sire,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  brilliant  as  his  talents  are  known  to  be, 
should  I  say  that  I  am  satisfied  in  my  own  mind  on  this 
occasion.  But  I  subscribe  to  the  spirit  of  the  times;  and 
I  agree  it  would  be  highly  dangerous,  on  such  accusa- 
tions as  we  have  been  able  to  collect,  to  impeach  the 
character  of  a  zealous  Protestant  like  his  Grace.  Had 
he  been  a  Catholic,  under  such  circumstances  of  sus- 
picion, the  Tower  had  been  too  good  a  prison  for 
him.' 

Buckingham  bowed  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  with  a 
meaning  which  even  his  triumph  could  not  disguise. 
'  Tu  me  la  pagherai  I '  he  muttered,  in  a  tone  of  deep  and 
abiding  resentment;  but  the  stout  old  Irishman,  who 
had  long  since  braved  his  utmost  wrath,  cared  little  for 
this  expression  of  his  displeasure. 

The  King  then,  signing  to  the  other  nobles  to  pass 
into  the  pubHc  apartments,  stopped  Buckingham  as  he 
was  about  to  follow  them;  and,  when  they  were  alone, 
asked,  with  a  significant  tone,  which  brought  all  the 
blood  in  the  duke's  veins  into  his  countenance,  '  When 
was  it,  George,  that  your  useful  friend  Colonel  Blood  ^ 
became  a  musician?  You  are  silent,'  he  said;  'do  not 
deny  the  charge,  for  yonder  villain,  once  seen,  is  remem- 

^  See  Note  22. 
439 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bered  for  ever.  Down  —  down  on  your  knees,  George, 
and  acknowledge  that  you  have  abused  my  easy  temper. 
Seek  for  no  apology  —  none  will  serve  your  turn.  I  saw 
the  man  myself  among  your  Germans,  as  you  call  them; 
and  you  know  what  I  must  needs  beheve  from  such  a 
circumstance.' 

*  Believe  that  I  have  been  guilty  —  most  guilty,  my 
liege  and  King,'  said  the  duke,  conscience-struck,  and 
kneeling  down  —  '  believe  that  I  was  misguided  —  that 
I  was  mad.  Believe  anything  but  that  I  was  capable  of 
harming,  or  being  accessary  to  harm,  your  person.' 

'I  do  not  believe  it,'  said  the  King;  'I  think  of  you, 
Villiers,  as  the  companion  of  my  dangers  and  my  exile, 
and  am  so  far  from  supposing  you  mean  worse  than  you 
say,  that  I  am  convinced  you  acknowledge  more  than 
you  ever  meant  to  attempt.' 

'By  all  that  is  sacred,'  said  the  duke,  still  kneeling, 
*  had  I  not  been  involved  to  the  extent  of  life  and  fortune 
with  the  villain  Christian  — ' 

*Nay,  if  you  bring  Christian  on  the  stage  again,'  said 
the  King,  smiling, '  it  is  time  for  me  to  withdraw.  Come, 
Villiers,  rise;  I  forgive  thee,  and  only  recommend  one 
act  of  penance,  the  curse  you  yourself  bestowed  on  the 
dog  who  bit  you  —  marriage,  and  retirement  to  your 
country-seat.' 

The  duke  rose  abashed,  and  followed  the  King  into 
the  circle,  which  Charles  entered,  leaning  on  the  shoulder 
of  his  repentant  peer ;  to  whom  he  showed  so  much  coun- 
tenance as  led  the  most  acute  observers  present  to  doubt 
the  possibility  of  there  existing  any  real  cause  for  the 
surmises  to  the  duke's  prejudice. 

The  Countess  of  Derby  had  in  the  meanwhile  con- 
440 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

suited  with  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  with  the  Peverils,  and 
with  her  other  friends;  and,  by  their  unanimous  advice, 
though  with  considerable  difficulty,  became  satisfied 
that  to  have  thus  shown  herself  at  court  was  sufficient 
to  vindicate  the  honour  of  her  house ;  and  that  it  was  her 
wisest  course,  after  having  done  so,  to  retire  to  her  in- 
sular dominions,  without  further  provoking  the  resent- 
ment of  a  powerful  faction.  She  took  farewell  of  the 
King  in  form,  and  demanded  his  permission  to  carry 
back  with  her  the  helpless  creature  who  had  so  strangely 
escaped  from  her  protection,  into  a  world  where  her  con- 
dition rendered  her  so  subject  to  every  species  of  misfor- 
tune. 

'Will  your  ladyship  forgive  me?'  said  Charles.  'I 
have  studied  your  sex  long  —  I  am  mistaken  if  your  lit- 
tle maiden  is  not  as  capable  of  caring  for  herself  as  any 
of  us.' 

'Impossible!'  said  the  countess. 

'Possible,  and  most  true,'  whispered  the  King.  'I  will 
instantly  convince  you  of  the  fact,  though  the  experi- 
ment is  too  delicate  to  be  made  by  any  but  your  lady- 
ship. Yonder  she  stands,  looking  as  if  she  heard  no  more 
than  the  marble  pillar  against  which  she  leans.  Now, 
if  Lady  Derby  will  contrive  either  to  place  her  hand  near 
the  region  of  the  damsel's  heart,  or  at  least  on  her  arm, 
so  that  she  can  feel  the  sensation  of  the  blood  when  the 
pulse  increases,  then  do  you,  my  Lord  of  Ormond, 
beckon  Juhan  Peveril  out  of  sight.  I  will  show  you  in  a 
moment  that  it  can  stir  at  sounds  spoken.' 

The  countess,  much  surprised,  afraid  of  some  em- 
barrassing pleasantry  on  the  part  of  Charles,  yet  unable 
to  repress  her  curiosity,  placed  herself  near  Fenella,  as 

441 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

she  called  her  little  mute;  and,  while  making  signs  to 
her,  contrived  to  place  her  hand  on  her  wrist. 

At  this  moment  the  King,  passing  near  them,  said, 
*  This  is  a  horrid  deed :  the  villain  Christian  has  stabbed 
young  Peveril!' 

The  mute  evidence  of  the  pulse,  which  bounded  as  if  a 
cannon  had  been  discharged  close  by  the  poor  girl's  ear, 
was  accompanied  by  such  a  loud  scream  of  agony  as 
distressed,  while  it  startled,  the  good-natured  monarch 
himself.  'I  did  but  jest,'  he  said;  'Julian  is  well,  my 
pretty  maiden.  I  only  used  the  wand  of  a  certain  blind 
deity,  called  Cupid,  to  bring  a  deaf  and  dumb  vassal  of 
his  to  the  exercise  of  her  faculties.'  ^ 

*I  am  betrayed!'  she  said,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground  —  *  I  am  betrayed !  and  it  is  fit  that  she,  whose 
life  has  been  spent  in  practising  treason  on  others, 
should  be  caught  in  her  own  snare.  But  where  is  my 
tutor  in  iniquity?  Where  is  Christian,  who  taught  me 
to  play  the  part  of  spy  on  this  unsuspicious  lady,  until 
I  had  wellnigh  delivered  her  into  his  bloody  hands  ? ' 

'This,'  said  the  King,  'craves  more  secret  examina- 
tion. Let  all  leave  the  apartment  who  are  not  immedi- 
ately connected  with  these  proceedings,  and  let  this 
Christian  be  again  brought  before  us.  Wretched  man,' 
he  continued,  addressing  Christian,  'what  wiles  are 
these  you  have  practised,  and  by  what  extraordinary 
means?' 

'She  has  betrayed  me,  then!'  said  Christian  —  'be- 
trayed me  to  bonds  and  death,  merely  for  an  idle  pas- 
sion, which  can  never  be  successful !  But  know,  Zarah/ 
he  added,  addressing  her  sternly,  'when  my  life  is  for- 

^  See  Note  23. 
442 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

feited  through  thy  evidence,  the  daughter  has  murdered 
the  father!' 

The  unfortunate  girl  stared  on  him  in  astonishment. 
'You  said/  at  length  she  stammered  forth,  'that  I  was 
the  daughter  of  your  slaughtered  brother?' 

'That  was  partly  to  reconcile  thee  to  the  part  thou 
wert  to  play  in  my  destined  drama  of  vengeance,  partly 
to  hide  what  men  call  the  infamy  of  thy  birth.  But  my 
daughter  thou  art!  and  from  the  Eastern  cHme,  in  which 
thy  mother  was  born,  you  derive  that  fierce  torrent  of 
passion  which  I  laboured  to  train  to  my  purposes,  but 
which,  turned  into  another  channel,  has  become  the 
cause  of  your  father's  destruction.  My  destiny  is  the 
Tower,  I  suppose?' 

He  spoke  these  words  with  great  composure,  and  scarce 
seemed  to  regard  the  agonies  of  his  daughter,  who, 
throwing  herself  at  his  feet,  sobbed  and  wept  most  bit- 
terly. 

'This  must  not  be,'  said  the  King,  moved  with  com- 
passion at  this  scene  of  misery.  '  If  you  consent.  Chris- 
tian, to  leave  this  country,  there  is  a  vessel  in  the  river 
bound  for  New  England.  Go,  carry  your  dark  intrigues 
to  other  lands.' 

'I  might  dispute  the  sentence,'  said  Christian,  boldly; 
'and  if  I  submit  to  it,  it  is  a  matter  of  my  own  choice. 
One  half  hour  had  made  me  even  with  that  proud 
woman,  but  fortune  hath  cast  the  balance  against  me. 
Rise,  Zarah,  Fenella  no  more!  Tell  the  Lady  of  Derby 
that,  if  the  daughter  of  Edward  Christian,  the  niece  of 
her  murdered  victim,  served  her  as  a  menial,  it  was 
but  for  the  purpose  of  vengeance  —  miserably,  miser- 
ably frustrated !  Thou  seest  thy  folly  now :  thou  wouldst 

443 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

follow  yonder  ungrateful  stripling,  thou  wouldst  forsake 
all  other  thoughts  to  gain  his  slightest  notice;  and  now 
thou  art  a  forlorn  outcast,  ridiculed  and  insulted  by 
those  on  whose  necks  you  might  have  trod  had  you 
governed  yourself  with  more  wisdom.  But  come,  thou 
art  still  my  daughter;  there  are  other  skies  than  that 
which  canopies  Britain.' 

'Stop  him,'  said  the  King;  'we  must  know  by  what 
means  this  maiden  found  access  to  those  confined  in  our 
prisons.' 

'  I  refer  your  Majesty  to  your  most  Protestant  jailor, 
and  to  the  most  Protestant  peers,  who,  in  order  to  ob- 
tain perfect  knowledge  of  the  depth  of  the  Popish  Plot, 
have  contrived  these  ingenious  apertures  for  visiting 
them  in  their  cells  by  night  or  day.  His  Grace  of  Buck- 
ingham can  assist  your  Majesty  if  you  are  inclined  to 
make  the  inquiry.'  ^ 

'  Christian,'  said  the  duke,  '  thou  art  the  most  bare- 
faced villain  who  ever  breathed!' 

'Of  a  commoner,  I  may,'  answered  Christian,  and  led 
his  daughter  out  of  the  presence. 

'See  after  him,  Selby,'  said  the  King  —  'lose  not  sight 
of  him  till  the  ship  sail;  if  he  dare  return  to  Britain,  it 
shall  be  at  his  peril.  Would  to  God  we  had  as  good  rid- 
dance of  others  as  dangerous!  And  I  would  also,'  he 
added,  after  a  moment's  pause,  'that  all  our  pohtical 
intrigues  and  feverish  alarms  could  terminate  as  harm- 
lessly as  now.  Here  is  a  plot  without  a  drop  of  blood; 
and  all  the  elements  of  a  romance  without  its  conclu- 
sion.   Here  we  have  a  wandering  island  princess  —  I 

^  It  was  said  that  very  unfair  means  were  used  to  compel  the  prisoners 
committed  on  account  of  the  Popish  Plot  to  make  disclosures,  and  that 
several  of  them  were  privately  put  to  the  torture. 

444 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

pray  my  Lady  of  Derby's  pardon  —  a  dwarf,  a  Moor- 
ish sorceress,  an  impenitent  rogue,  and  a  repentant  man 
of  rank,  and  yet  all  ends  without  either  hanging  or 
marriage.' 

'Not  altogether  without  the  latter,'  said  the  count- 
ess, who  had  an  opportunity,  during  the  evening,  of 
much  private  conversation  with  Julian  Peveril.  *  There 
is  a  certain  Major  Bridgenorth,  who,  since  your  Majesty 
relinquishes  further  inquiry  into  these  proceedings, 
which  he  had  otherwise  intended  to  abide,  designs,  as 
we  are  informed,  to  leave  England  for  ever.  Now  this 
Bridgenorth,  by  dint  of  the  law,  hath  acquired  strong 
possession  over  the  domains  of  Peveril,  which  he  is 
desirous  to  restore  to  the  ancient  owners,  with  much 
fair  land  besides,  conditionally,  that  our  young  Julian 
will  receive  them  as  the  dowery  of  his  only  child  and 
heir.' 

*By  my  faith,'  said  the  King,  'she  must  be  a  foul- 
favoured  wench  indeed  if  Julian  requires  to  be  pressed 
to  accept  her  on  such  fair  conditions.' 

'They  love  each  other  like  lovers  of  the  last  age,' 
said  the  countess;  'but  the  stout  old  knight  likes  not  the 
Roundheaded  alliance.' 

'Our  royal  recommendation  shall  put  that  to  rights,' 
said  the  King;  'Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  has  not  suffered 
hardship  so  often  at  our  command,  that  he  will  refuse 
our  recommendation  when  it  comes  to  make  him  amends 
for  all  his  losses.' 

It  may  be  supposed  the  King  did  not  speak  without 
being  fully  aware  of  the  unlimited  ascendency  which  he 
possessed  over  the  spirit  of  the  old  Tory;  for,  within  four 
weeks  afterwards,  the  bells  of  Martindale-Moultrassie 

445 


WAVERLEY   NOVELS 

were  ringing  for  the  union  of  the  families  from  whose 
estates  it  takes  its  compound  name,  and  the  beacon- 
h'ght  of  the  castle  blazed  high  over  hill  and  dale  and 
summoned  all  to  rejoice  who  were  within  twenty  miles 
of  its  gleam. 


THE   END 


NOTES  AND  GLOSSARY 


NOTES 

Note  i,  p.  80 

The  first  check  received  by  Dr.  Gates  and  his  colleagues  in  the 
task  of  supporting  the  Plot  by  their  testimony  was  in  this  manner: 
After  a  good  deal  of  prevarication,  the  prime  witness  at  length 
made  a  direct  charge  against  Sir  George  Wakeman,  the  Queen's 
physician,  of  an  attempt  to  poison  the  king,  and  even  connected 
the  Queen  with  this  accusation,  whom  he  represented  as  Wake- 
man's  accomphce.  This  last  piece  of  effrontery  recalled  the  King 
to  some  generous  sentiments.  'The  villains,'  said  Charles,  'think 
I  am  tired  of  my  wife;  but  they  shall  find  I  will  not  permit  an  in- 
nocent woman  to  be  persecuted.'  Scroggs,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice, 
accordingly  received  instructions  to  be  favourable  to  the  accused ; 
and,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  so.  Wakeman  was  acquitted,  but 
thought  it  more  for  his  safety  to  retire  abroad.  His  acquittal, 
however,  indicated  a  turn  of  the  tide,  which  had  so  long  set  in 
favour  of  the  Plot,  and  of  the  witnesses  by  whom  it  had  hitherto 
been  supported. 

Note  2,  p.  80 

The  epitaph  alluded  to  is  the  celebrated  epigram  made  by  Ro- 
chester on  Charles  II.  It  was  composed  at  the  King's  request, 
who  nevertheless  resented  its  poignancy. 

The  lines  are  well  known :  — 

Here  lies  our  sovereign  lord  the  King, 

Whose  word  no  man  relies  on; 
Who  never  said  a  foolish  thing, 

And  never  did  a  wise  one. 

Note  3,  p.  81 

The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  Charles  II's  favourite  mistress, 
very  unpopular  at  the  time  of  the  Popish  Plot,  as  well  from  her 
religion  as  her  country,  being  a  Frenchwoman  and  a  Catholic. 

Note  4,  p.  106 

Elkanah  Settle,  the  unworthy  scribbler  whom  the  envy  of 
Rochester  and  others  tried  to  raise  to  public  estimation  as  a  rival 
to  Dryden,  a  circumstance  which  has  been  the  means  of  elevating 
him  to  a  very  painful  species  of  immortality. 

88  449 


NOTES 

Note  5,  p.  106 

It  was  the  unworthy  distinction  of  men  of  wit  and  honour  about 
town  to  revenge  their  own  quarrels  with  inferior  persons  by  the 
hands  of  bravoes.  Even  in  the  days  of  chivalry,  the  knights,  as 
may  be  learned  from  Don  Quixote,  turned  over  to  the  chastise- 
ment of  their  squires  such  adversaries  as  were  not  dubb'd;  and 
thus  it  was  not  unusual  for  men  of  quality  in  Charles  II's  time 
to  avenge  their  wrongs  by  means  of  private  assassination.  Ro- 
chester writes  composedly  concerning  a  satire  imputed  to  Dryden, 
but  in  reality  composed  by  Mulgrave,  '  If  he  falls  upon  me  with 
the  blunt,  which  is  his  very  good  weapon  in  wit,  I  will  forgive  him, 
if  you  please,  and  leave  the  repartee  to  Black  Will  with  a  cudgel.' 
And,  in  conformity  with  this  cowardly  and  brutal  intimation,  that 
distinguished  poet  was  waylaid  and  beaten  severely  in  Rose  Street, 
Covent  Garden,  by  ruffians  who  could  not  be  discovered,  but 
whom  all  concluded  to  be  the  agents  of  Rochester's  mean  re- 
venge. 

Note  6,  p.  109 

Bennet,  Earl  of  Arlington,  was  one  of  Charles's  most  attached 
courtiers  during  his  exile.  After  the  Restoration,  he  was  employed 
in  the  ministry,  and  the  name  of  Bennet  supplies  its  initial  B  to 
the  celebrated  word  Cabal.  But  the  King  was  supposed  to  have 
lost  respect  for  him ;  and  several  persons  at  court  took  the  liberty 
to  mimic  his  person  and  behaviour,  which  was  stiff  and  formal. 
Thus  it  was  a  common  jest  for  some  courtier  to  put  a  black  patch 
on  his  nose  and  strut  about  with  a  white  staff  in  his  hand,  to  make 
the  King  merry.  But,  notwithstanding,  he  retained  his  office  of 
Lord  Chamberlain  and  his  seat  in  the  privy  council  till  his  death  in 
1685. 

Note  7,  p.  no 

Mary,  daughter  of  Thomas  Lord  Fairfax,  was  wedded  to  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  whose  versatility  rendered  him  as  capable 
of  rendering  himself  for  a  time  agreeable  to  his  father-in-law, 
though  a  rigid  Presbyterian,  as  to  the  gay  Charles  II. 

Note  8,  p.  115 

The  application  of  the  very  respectable  old  English  name  of 
Jemingham  to  the  valet-de-chambre  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
has  proved  of  force  sufficient  to  wake  the  resentment  of  the  dead, 

450 


NOTES 

who  had  in  early  days  worn  that  illustrious  surname;  for  the  Au- 
thor received  by  post  the  following  expostulation  on  the  subject: 
'To  the  learned  Clerk  and  worshipful  Knight,  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
give  these: 

*Mye  mortal  frame  has  long  since  mouldered  into  dust,  and  the 
young  saplinge  that  was  planted  on  the  daye  of  mye  funeral  is 
now  a  doddered  oak,  standinge  hard  bye  the  mansion  of  the  fam- 
ihe.  The  windes  doe  whistle  thro'  its  leaves,  moaninge  among  its 
moss-covered  branches,  and  awakeninge  in  the  soules  of  my  de- 
scendants that  pensive  Melancholy  which  leads  back  to  the  con- 
templating those  that  are  gone!  I,  who  was  once  the  courtly 
dame,  that  held  high  revelry  in  those  gaye  bowers,  am  now  light 
as  the  blast! 

'If  I  essaye,  from  vain  affection,  to  make  my  name  be  thought 
of  by  producing  the  noise  of  rustlinge  silkes,  or  the  slow  tread  of  a 
midnight  foot  along  the  chapel  floor,  alas!  I  only  scare  the  simple 
maidens,  and  mye  wearie  efiforts  (how  wearie  none  alive  can  tell) 
are  derided  and  jeered  at  by  my  knightlie  descendants.  Once  in- 
deed—  but  it  boots  not  to  burthen  your  ear  with  this  particular, 
nor  why  I  am  still  sad  and  aching,  between  earth  and  heaven! 
Know  only,  that  I  still  walk  this  place,  as  mye  playmate,  your 
great -grandmother,  does  hers.  I  sit  in  my  wonted  chair,  tho'  now 
it  stands  in  a  dusty  garret.  I  frequent  my  ladye's  room,  and  I 
have  hushed  her  wailinge  babes,  when  all  the  cunning  of  the  nurse 
has  failed.  I  sit  at  the  window  where  so  long  a  succession  of  hon- 
orable dames  have  presided  their  daye,  and  are  passed  away.  But 
in  the  change  that  centuries  brought,  honor  and  truth  have  re- 
mained; and,  as  adherents  to  King  Harry's  eldest  daughter,  as 
true  subjects  to  her  successors,  as  faithful  followers  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Charles  and  his  posteritie,  and  as  loyal  and  attached  serv- 
auntes  of  the  present  royal  stock,  the  name  of  Jerningham  has 
ever  remained  unsullied  in  honour,  and  uncontaminated  in  aught 
unfytting  its  ancient  knightlie  origin.  You,  noble  and  learned  sir, 
whose  quill  is  as  the  trumpet  arousinge  the  slumberinge  soule  to 
feehngs  of  loftie  chivalrie  —  you.  Sir  Knight,  who  feel  and  doe 
honor  to  your  noble  lineage,  wherefore  did  you  say,  in  your  chron- 
icle or  historie  of  the  brave  knt,  Peveril  of  the  Peake,  that  my 
lord  of  Buckingham's  servaunte  was  a  Jerningham?  a  vile  varlet 
to  a  viler  noble!  Many  honourable  families  have,  indeed,  shot  and 
spread  from  the  parent  stock  into  wild  entangled  mazes,  and 
reached  perchance  beyond  the  confines  of  gentle  blood;  but  it  so 
pleased  Providence,   that  mye  worshipful  husband,  good  Sir 

451 


NOTES 

Harry's  line,  has  flowed  in  one  confined  but  dear  deep  stream 
down  to  mye  well-beloued  son,  the  present  Sir  George  Jerning- 
ham,  by  just  claim  Lorde  Staff orde;  and  if  any  of  your  courtly 
ancestors  that  hover  round  your  bed  could  speak,  they  would 
tell  you  that  the  duke's  valet  was  not  Jerningham,  but  Sayer 
or  Sims.  Act  as  you  shall  think  mete  hereon,  but  defend  the 
honoured  names  of  those  whose  champion  you  so  well  deserve 
to  be.  J.  Jerningham.' 

Having  no  mode  of  knowing  how  to  reply  to  this  ancient  digni- 
tary, I  am  compelled  to  lay  the  blame  of  my  error  upon  wicked 
example,  which  has  misled  me;  and  to  plead  that  I  should  never 
have  been  guilty  of  so  great  a  misnomer,  but  for  the  authority 
of  one  Oliver  Goldsmith,  who,  in  elegant  dialogue  between  the 
Lady  Blarney  and  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs, 
makes  the  former  assure  Miss  Skeggs  as  a  fact  that  the  next  morn- 
ing my  lord  called  out  three  times  to  his  valet-de-chambre,  'Jern- 
igan  —  Jernigan  —  Jernigan!  bring  me  my  garters!'  Some  inac- 
curate recollection  of  this  passage  has  occasioned  the  offence  ren- 
dered, for  which  I  make  this  imperfect,  yet  respectful,  apology. 

Note  9,  p.  186 

Roger  North  gives  us  a  ridiculous  description  of  these  warlike 
habiliments  when  talking  of  the  Whig  Club  in  Fuller's  Rents. 
'The  conversation  and  ordinary  discourse  of  the  club  was  chiefly 
on  the  subject  of  bravery  in  defending  the  cause  of  liberty  and 
property,  and  what  every  Protestant  Englishman  ought  to  ven- 
ture and  do,  rather  than  be  overrun  with  Popery  and  slavery. 
There  was  much  recommendation  of  silk  armour,  and  the  pru- 
dence of  being  provided  with  it,  against  the  time  that  Protestants 
were  to  be  massacred;  and  accordingly  there  were  abundance  of 
these  silken  backs,  breasts,  and  pots  [i.e.  head-pieces]  made  and 
sold,  which  were  pretended  to  be  pistol  proof,  in  which  any  man 
dressed  up  was  as  safe  as  in  a  house;  for  it  was  impossible  any  one 
could  go  to  strike  him  for  laughing,  so  ridiculous  was  the  figure,  as 
they  say,  of  hogs  in  armour  —  an  image  of  derision  insensible  but 
to  the  view,  as  I  have  had  it  [viz.  that  none  can  imagine  without 
seeing  it,  as  I  have].  This  was  armour  of  defence,  but  our  sparks 
were  not  altogether  so  tame  as  to  carry  their  provisions  no  farther; 
for  truly  they  intended  to  be  assailants  upon  fair  occasion,  and  had 
for  that  end  recommended  to  them  a  certain  pocket  weapon,  which 
for  its  design  and  efficacy,  had  the  honour  to  be  called  a  Protestant 

452 


NOTES 

flail.  It  was  for  street  and  crowd  work,  and  the  instrument,  lurk- 
ing perdue  in  a  coat-pocket,  might  readily  sally  out  to  execution, 
and  by  clearing  a  great  hall,  piazza,  or  so,  carry  an  election  by  a 
choice  way  of  polling,  called  "knocking  down."  The  handle  re- 
sembled a  farrier's  blood-stick,  and  the  fall  was  joined  to  the  end 
by  a  strong  nervous  ligature,  that  in  its  swing  fell  short  of  the 
hand,  and  was  made  of  lignum  vitce,  or  rather,  as  the  poet  termed 
it,  mortis.'  —  Examen,  p.  173. 

This  last  weapon  will  remind  the  reader  of  the  blood-stick  so 
cruelly  used,  as  was  alleged,  in  a  murder  committed  in  England 
some  years  ago,  and  for  a  participation  in  which  two  persons  were 
tried  and  acquitted  at  the  assizes  of  autumn  1830. 

Note  10,  p.  210 

Geoffrey  or  Jeffrey  Hudson  is  often  mentioned  in  anecdotes  of 
Charles  I's  time.  His  first  appearance  at  court  was  his  being  pre- 
sented, as  mentioned  in  the  text,  in  a  pie,  at  an  entertainment 
given  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  to  Charles  I  and  Henrietta 
Maria.  Upon  the  same  occasion,  the  Duke  presented  the  tenant 
of  the  pasty  to  the  Queen,  who  retained  him  as  her  page.  When 
about  eight  years  of  age,  he  was  but  eighteen  or  twenty  inches 
high;  and  remained  stationary  at  that  stature  till  he  was  thirty 
years  old,  when  he  grew  to  the  height  of  three  feet  nine  inches,  and 
there  stopped. 

This  singular  lusus  naiurce  was  trusted  in  some  negotiations 
of  consequence.  He  went  to  France  to  fetch  over  a  midwife  to 
his  mistress,  Henrietta  Maria.  On  his  return,  he  was  taken  by 
Dunkirk  privateers,  when  he  lost  many  valuable  presents  sent  to 
the  Queen  from  France  and  about  £2500  of  his  own.  Sir  William 
Davenant  makes  a  real  or  supposed  combat  between  the  dwarf 
and  a  turkey-cock  the  subject  of  a  poem  called  Jeffreidos,  The 
scene  is  laid  at  Dunkirk,  where,  as  the  satire  concludes  — 

Jeffrey  strait  was  thrown,  when,  faint  and  weak, 
The  cruel  fowl  assaults  him  with  his  beak. 
A  lady  midwife  now  he  there  by  chance 
Espied,  that  came  along  with  him  from  France. 
'A  heart  brought  up  in  war,  that  ne'er  before 
This  time  could  bow,'  he  said,  'doth  now  implore 
Thou,  that  delivered  hast  so  many,  be 
So  kind  of  nature  as  deliver  me.' 

We  are  not  acquainted  how  far  Jeffrey  resented  this  lam- 
poon. But  we  are  assured  he  was  a  consequential  personage, 
and  endured  with  little  temper  the  teasing  of  the  Hnrr."-*-"  -•  > 

453 


NOTES 

courtiers,  and  had  many  squabbles  with  the  King's  gigantic 
porter. 

The  fatal  duel  with  Mr.  Crofts  actually  took  place,  as  mentioned 
in  the  text.  It  happened  in  France.  The  poor  dwarf  had  also  the 
misfortune  to  be  taken  prisoner  by  a  Turkish  pirate.  He  was,  how- 
ever, probably  soon  set  at  liberty,  for  Hudson  was  a  captain  for 
the  King  during  the  Civil  War.  In  1644  the  dwarf  attended  his 
royal  mistress  to  France.  The  Restoration  recalled  him,  with 
other  Royalists,  to  England.  But  this  poor  being,  who  received,  it 
would  seem,  hard  measure  both  from  nature  and  fortune,  was  not 
doomed  to  close  his  days  in  peace.  Poor  Jeffrey,  upon  some  sus- 
picion respecting  the  Popish  Plot,  was  taken  up  in  1682,  and  con- 
fined in  the  Gatehouse  prison,  Westminster,  where  he  ended  his 
life  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age. 

Jeffrey  Hudson  has  been  immortalised  by  the  brush  of  Vandyke, 
and  his  clothes  are  said  to  be  preserved  as  articles  of  curiosity  in 
Sir  Hans  Sloan's  Museum. 

Note  ii,  p.  257 

The  ill-usage  of  Sir  John  Coventry  by  some  of  the  Life  Guards- 
men in  revenge  of  something  said  in  Parliament  concerning  the 
King's  theatrical  amours,  gave  rise  to  what  was  called  Coventry's 
Act,  against  cutting  and  maiming  the  person. 

Note  12,  p.  271 

Of  Blood's  Narrative,  Roger  North  takes  the  following  notice: — 
'There  was  another  sham  plot  of  one  Netterville.  .  .  .  And  here 
the  good  Colonel  Blood  —  that  stole  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  and,  if 
a  timely  rescue  had  not  come  in,  had  hanged  him  at  Tyburn,  and 
afterwards  stole  the  crown,  though  he  was  not  so  happy  as  to 
carry  it  off  —  no  player  at  small  games;  he,  even  he,  the  virtuous 
colonel,  as  this  sham  plot  says,  was  to  have  been  destroyed  by  the 
Papists.  It  seems  these  Papists  would  let  no  eminent  Protestant 
be  safe.  But  some  amends  were  made  to  the  colonel  by  sale  of  the 
narrative,  licensed  Thomas  Blood.  It  would  have  been  strange 
if  so  much  mischief  were  stirring,  and  he  had  not  come  in  for  a 
snack.'  — Examen,  edit.  1711,  p.  311. 

Note  13,  p.  275 

Stock-jobbing,  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  dealing  in  shares  of  mon- 
opolies, patents,  and  joint-stock  companies  of  every  description, 

454 


NOTES 

was  at  least  as  common  in  Charles  II  's  time  as  our  own;  and  as  the 
exercise  of  ingenuity  in  this  way  promised  a  road  to  wealth  with- 
out the  necessity  of  industry,  it  was  then  much  pursued  by  dis- 
solute courtiers. 

Note  14,  p.  284 

This  case  is  not  without  precedent.  Among  the  jealousies  and 
fears  expressed  by  the  Long  Parliament,  they  insisted  much  upon 
an  agent  for  the  King  departing  for  the  Continent  so  abruptly 
that  he  had  not  time  to  change  his  court  dress  —  white  buskins, 
to  wit,  and  black  silk  pantaloons  —  for  an  equipment  more  suit- 
able to  travel  with. 

Note  15,  p.  296 

In  Evelyn's  Memoirs  is  the  following  curious  passage  respecting 
Nell  Gwyn,  who  is  hinted  at  in  the  text:  'I  walked  with  him  [King 
Charles  II]  through  St.  James's  Park  to  the  garden,  where  I  both 
saw  and  heard  a  very  familiar  discourse  between  .  .  .  [the 
King]  and  Mrs.  Nelly,  as  they  called  her,  an  intimate  comedian, 
she  looking  out  of  her  garden  on  a  terrace  at  the  top  of  the  wall, 
and  the  [King]  standing  on  the  green  walk  under  it.  I  was  heartily 
sorry  at  this  scene.'  —  Evelyn's  Memoirs,  vol.  i,  p.  413. 

Note  16,  p.  306 

The  conspirator  Blood  even  fought  or  made  his  way  into  good 
society,  and  sat  at  good  men's  feasts.  Evelyn's  Diary  bears,  loth 
May  1671:  'Dined  at  Mr.  Treasurer's,  where  dined  Monsieur  de 
Grammont  and  several  French  noblemen,  and  one  Blood,  that 
impudent,  bold  fellow,  that  had  not  long  ago  attempted  to  steal 
the  Imperial  crown  itself  out  of  the  Tower,  pretending  curiosity 
of  seeing  the  Regalia,  when,  stabbing  the  keeper,  though  not  mor- 
tally, he  boldly  went  away  with  it  through  all  the  guards,  taken 
only  by  the  accident  of  his  horse  falling  down.  How  he  came  to  be 
pardoned,  and  even  received  into  favour,  not  only  after  this,  but 
several  other  exploits  almost  as  daring,  both  in  Ireland  and  here, 
I  could  never  come  to  understand.  Some  believed  he  became  a 
spy  of  several  parties,  being  well  with  the  sectaries  and  enthusi- 
asts, and  did  his  Majesty  service  that  way,  which  none  alive  could 
do  so  well  as  he.  But  it  was  certainly,  as  the  boldest  attempt,  so 
the  only  treason  of  the  sort  that  was  ever  pardoned.  The  man  had 
not  only  a  daring,  but  a  villainous,  unmerciful  look,  a  false  coun- 

455 


NOTES 

tenance,  but  very  well  spoken  and  dangerously  insinuating.'  — 
Evelyn's  Memoirs,  vol.  i,  p.  413. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  occasions  on  which  we  might  make  curf- 
ous  remarks  on  the  disregard  of  our  forefathers  for  appearances, 
even  in  the  regulation  of  society.  What  should  we  think  of  a 
Lord  of  the  Treasury,  who,  to  make  up  a  party  of  French  nobles 
and  English  gentlemen  of  condition,  should  invite  as  a  guest  Bar- 
rington  or  Major  Semple,  or  any  well-known  chevalier  d'indus- 
trie  ?  Yet  Evelyn  does  not  seem  to  have  been  shocked  at  the  man 
being  brought  into  society,  but  only  at  his  remaining  unhanged. 

Note  17,  p.  324 

It  was  on  such  terms  that  Dr.  Gates  was  pleased  to  claim  the 

extraordinary  privilege  of  dealing  out  the  information  which  he 
chose  to  communicate  to  a  court  of  justice.  The  only  sense  in 
which  his  story  of  the  fox,  stone,  and  goose  could  be  applicable  is 
by  supposing,  that  he  was  determined  to  ascertain  the  extent  of  his 
countrymen's  credulity  before  supplying  it  with  a  full  meal. 

Note  18,  p.  366 

Thomas,  or  Sir  Thomas,  Armstrong,  a  person  who  had  distin- 
guished himself  in  youth  by  duels  and  drunken  exploits.  He  was 
particularly  connected  with  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  and  was  said 
to  be  concerned  in  the  Rye-House  Plot,  for  which  he  suffered 
capital  punishment,  20th  June  1684. 

Note  19,  p.  368 

Charles,  to  suit  his  dark  complexion,  always  wore  a  black 
peruke.  He  used  to  say  of  the  players,  that  if  they  wished  to 
represent  a  villain  on  the  stage,  'Odds-fish,  they  always  clapp'd 
on  him  a  black  periwig,  whereas  the  greatest  rogue  in  England 
[meaning,  probably,  Dr.  Gates]  wears  a  white  one.'  —  See  Gib- 
ber's Apology. 

Note  20,  p.  370 

The  place  of  meeting  of  the  Green  Ribbon  Club.  Their  place  of 
meeting,  says  Roger  North,  '  was  in  a  sort  of  carrefour  at  Chanc- 
ery Lane,  in  a  centre  of  business  and  company  most  proper  for 
such  anglers  of  fools.  The  house  was  double  balconied  in  front,  as 
may  yet  be  seen,  for  the  clubbers  to  issue  forth  in  fresco,  with 

456 


NOTES 

hats  and  no  peruques,  pipes  in  their  mouths,  merry  faces,  and 
dilated  throats  for  vocal  encouragement  of  the  canaglia  below,  on 
usual  and  unusual  occasions.' 

Note  21,  p.  391 
It  can  hardly  be  forgotten  that  one  of  the  great  difficulties  of 
Charles  II's  reign  was  to  obtain  for  the  crown  the  power  of  choos- 
ing the  sheriffs  of  London.  Roger  North  gives  a  lively  account  of 
his  brother.  Sir  Dudley  North,  who  agreed  to  serve  for  the  court. 
*I  omit  the  share  he  had  in  composing  the  tumults  about  burning 
the  Pope,  because  that  is  accounted  for  in  the  Examen  and  the 
life  of  the  Lord  Keeper  North.  Neither  is  there  occasion  to  say 
anything  of  the  rise  and  discovery  of  the  Rye  Plot,  for  the  same 
reason.  Nor  is  my  subject  much  concerned  with  this  latter,  fur- 
ther than  that  the  conspirators  had  taken  especial  care  of  Sir 
Dudley  North.  For  he  was  one  of  those  who,  if  they  had  succeeded, 
was  to  have  been  knocked  on  the  head,  and  his  skin  to  be  stuffed 
and  hung  up  in  Guildhall.  But  all  that  apart  he  reckoned  it  a 
great  unhappiness  that  so  many  trials  for  high  treason,  and  exe- 
cutions, should  happen  in  his  year.  However,  in  these  affairs,  the 
sheriffs  were  passive;  for  all  returns  of  panels,  and  other  dis- 
patches of  the  law,  were  issued  and  done  by  under-officers,  which 
was  a  fair  screen  for  them.  They  attended  at  the  trials  and  execu- 
tions, to  coerce  the  crowds  and  keep  order,  which  was  enough  for 
them  to  do.  I  have  heard  Sir  Dudley  North  say  that,  striking 
with  his  cane,  he  wondered  to  see  what  blows  his  countrymen 
would  take  upon  their  bare  heads,  and  never  look  up  at  it.  And, 
indeed,  nothing  can  match  the  zeal  of  the  common  people  to  see 
executions.  The  worst  grievance  was  the  executioner  coming  to 
him  for  orders  touching  the  abscinded  members,  and  to  know 
where  to  dispose  of  them.  Once,  while  he  was  abroad,  a  cart,  with 
some  of  them,  came  into  the  courtyard  of  his  house,  and  frighted 
his  lady  almost  out  of  her  wits;  and  she  could  never  be  reconciled 
to  the  dog  hangman's  saying  he  came  to  speak  with  his  master. 
These  are  inconveniences  that  attend  the  stations  of  public  mag- 
istracy, and  are  necessary  to  be  borne  with,  as  magistracy  itself 
is  necessary.  I  have  now  no  more  to  say  of  any  incidents  during 
the  shrievalty;  but  that,  at  the  year's  end,  he  delivered  up  his 
charges  to  his  successors  in  like  manner  as  he  had  received  them 
from  his  predecessor;  and,  having  reinstated  his  family,  he  lived 
well  and  easy  at  his  own  house,  as  he  did  before  these  disturbances 
put  him  out  of  order.' 

457 


NOTES 

Note  22,  p.  439 

This  person,  who  was  capable  of  framing  and  carrying  into  exe- 
cution the  most  desperate  enterprises,  was  one  of  those  extraor- 
dinary characters  who  can  only  arise  amid  the  bloodshed,  confu- 
sion, destruction  of  morality,  and  wide-spreading  violence  which 
take  place  during  civil  war.  The  arrangement  of  the  present  vol- 
ume admitting  of  a  lengthened  digression,  we  cannot,  perhaps, 
enter  upon  a  subject  more  extraordinary  or  entertaining  than  the 
history  of  this  notorious  desperado,  who  exhibited  all  the  elements 
of  a  most  accompHshed  ruiBan.  As  the  account  of  these  adven- 
tures is  scattered  in  various  and  scarce  publications,  it  will  pro- 
bably be  a  service  to  the  reader  to  bring  the  most  remarkable  of 
them  under  his  eye,  in  a  simultaneous  point  of  view. 

Blood's  father  is  reported  to  have  been  a  blacksmith;  but  this 
was  only  a  disparaging  mode  of  describing  a  person  who  had  a 
concern  in  iron-works,  and  had  thus  acquired  independence.  He 
entered  early  in  life  into  the  Civil  War,  served  as  a  lieutenant  in 
the  Parliament  forces,  and  was  put  by  Henry  Cromwell,  Lord 
Deputy  of  Ireland,  into  the  commission  of  the  peace,  when  he  was 
scarcely  two-and-twenty.  This  outset  in  life  decided  his  pohtical 
party  for  ever;  and  however  unfit  the  principles  of  such  a  man 
rendered  him  for  the  society  of  those  who  professed  a  rigidity  of 
religion  and  morals,  so  useful  was  Blood's  rapidity  of  invention, 
and  so  well  was  he  known,  that  he  was  held  capable  of  framing 
with  sagacity,  and  conducting  with  skill,  the  most  desperate  un- 
dertakings, and  in  a  turbulent  time  was  allowed  to  associate  with 
the  nonjurors,  who  affected  a  peculiar  austerity  of  conduct  and 
sentiments.  In  1663,  the  Act  of  Settlement  in  Ireland,  and  the 
proceedings  thereupon,  aflfected  Blood  deeply  in  his  fortune, 
and  from  that  moment  he  appears  to  have  nourished  the  most 
inveterate  hatred  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  the  Lord  Lieutenant 
of  Ireland,  whom  he  considered  as  the  author  of  the  measures  un- 
der which  he  suffered.  There  were  at  this  time  many  malcon- 
tents of  the  same  party  with  himself,  so  that  Lieutenant  Blood, 
as  the  most  daring  among  them,  was  able  to  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  conspiracy  which  had  for  its  purpose  the  exciting  a  gen- 
eral insurrection,  and,  as  a  prehminary  step,  the  surprising  of  the 
castle  of  Dublin.  The  means  proposed  for  the  last  purpose,  which 
was  to  be  the  prelude  to  the  rising,  augured  the  desperation  of 
the  person  by  whom  it  was  contrived,  and  yet  might  probably 
have  succeeded  from  its  very  boldness.  A  declaration  was  drawn 

458 


NOTES 

up  by  the  hand  of  Blood  himself,  calling  upon  all  persons  to  take 
arms  for  the  liberty  of  the  subject  and  the  restoration  of  the  Sol- 
emn League  and  Covenant.  For  the  surprise  of  the  castle,  it  was 
provided  that  several  persons  with  petitions  in  their  hands  were 
to  wait  within  the  walls,  as  if  they  staid  to  present  them  to  the 
Lord  Lieutenant,  while  about  fourscore  of  the  old  daring  dis- 
banded soldiers  were  to  remain  on  the  outside,  dressed  like  car- 
penters, smiths,  shoemakers,  and  other  ordinary  mechanics.  As 
soon  as  the  Lord  Lieutenant  went  in,  a  baker  was  to  pass  by  the 
main  guard  with  a  large  basket  of  white  bread  on  his  back.  By 
making  a  false  step,  he  was  to  throw  down  his  burden,  which 
might  create  a  scramble  among  the  soldiers,  and  offer  the  four- 
score men  before  mentioned  an  opportunity  of  disarming  them, 
while  the  others  with  petitions  in  their  hands  secured  all  within  ; 
and  being  once  master  of  the  castle  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond's 
person,  they  were  to  pubHsh  their  declaration.  But  some  of  the 
principal  conspirators  were  apprehended  about  twelve  hours  be- 
fore the  time  appointed  for  the  execution  of  the  design,  in  which 
no  less  than  seven  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  (for  the 
Parhament  of  Ireland  was  then  sitting)  were  concerned.  Leckie, 
a  minister,  the  brother-in-law  of  Blood,  was  with  several  others 
tried,  condemned,  and  executed.  Blood  effected  his  escape,  but 
was  still  so  much  the  object  of  public  apprehension,  that  a  ru- 
mour having  arisen  during  Leckie's  execution  that  Major  Blood 
was  at  hand  with  a  party  to  rescue  the  prisoner,  every  one  of  the 
guards,  and  the  executioner  himself,  shifted  for  themselves,  leaving 
Leckie,  with  the  halter  about  his  neck,  standing  alone  under  the 
gallows;  but,  as  no  rescue  appeared,  the  sheriff-officers  returned 
to  their  duty,  and  the  criminal  was  executed.  Meantime  Blood 
retired  among  the  mountains  of  Ireland,  where  he  herded  alter- 
nately with  fanatics  and  Papists,  provided  only  they  were  discon- 
tented with  the  government.  There  were  few  persons  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  intrigues  of  the  time  than  this  active  partizan, 
who  was  alternately  Quaker,  Anabaptist,  or  Catholic,  but  always 
a  rebel  and  revolutionist ;  he  shifted  from  place  to  place,  and  from 
kingdom  to  kingdom,  became  known  to  the  Admiral  de  Ruyter, 
and  was  the  soul  of  every  desperate  plot. 

In  particular,  about  1665,  Mr.  Blood  was  one  of  a  revolutionary 
committee,  or  secret  council,  which  continued  its  sittings,  not- 
withstanding that  government  knew  of  its  meetings.  For  their 
security,  they  had  about  thirty  stout  fellows  posted  around  the 
place  where  they  met,  in  the  nature  of  a  corps  de  garde.  It  fell 

459 


NOTES 

out  that  two  of  the  members  of  the  council,  to  save  themselves, 
and  perhaps  for  the  sake  of  a  reward,  betrayed  all  their  transac- 
tions to  the  ministry,  which  ]Mr.  Blood  soon  suspected,  and  in  a 
short  time  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  whole  affair.  He  appointed 
these  two  persons  to  meet  him  at  a  tavern  in  the  city,  where  he 
had  his  guard  ready,  who  secured  them  without  any  noise,  and 
carried  them  to  a  private  place  provided  for  the  purpose,  where 
he  called  a  kind  of  court-martial,  before  whom  they  were  tried, 
found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  be  shot  two  days  after  in  the  same 
place.  When  the  time  appointed  came,  they  were  brought  out, 
and  all  the  necessary  preparations  made  for  putting  the  sentence 
in  execution;  and  the  poor  men,  seeing  no  hopes  of  escape,  dis- 
posed themselves  to  suffer  as  well  as  they  could.  At  this  critical 
juncture,  Mr.  Blood  was  graciously  pleased  to  grant  them  his 
pardon,  and  at  the  same  time  advised  them  to  go  to  their  new 
master,  tell  him  all  that  had  happened,  and  request  him,  in  the 
name  of  their  old  confederates,  to  be  as  favourable  to  such  of 
them  as  should  at  any  time  stand  in  need  of  his  mercy.  Whether 
these  unfortunate  people  carried  Mr.  Blood's  message  to  the  king, 
does  not  anywhere  appear.  It  is,  however,  certain  that  not  long 
after  the  whole  conspiracy  was  discovered;  in  consequence  of 
which,  on  the  26th  of  April  1666,  Colonel  John  Rathbone,  and 
some  other  officers  of  the  late  disbanded  army,  were  tried  and 
convicted  at  the  Old  Bailey  for  a  plot  to  surprise  the  Tower  and 
to  kill  General  Monk. 

After  his  concern  with  this  desperate  conclave,  who  were  chiefly 
fanatics  and  Fifth  Monarchy  men,  Blood  exchanged  the  scene  for 
Scotland,  where  he  mingled  among  the  Cameronians,  and  must 
have  been  a  most  acceptable  associate  to  John  Balfour  of  Burley, 
or  any  other  who  joined  the  insurgents  more  out  of  spleen  or  de- 
sire of  plunder  than  from  religious  motives.  The  writers  of  the 
sect  seem  to  have  thought  his  name  a  discredit,  or  perhaps  did  not 
know  it;  nevertheless,  it  is  affirmed  in  a  pamphlet  written  by  a 
person  who  seems  to  have  been  well  acquainted  with  the  incidents 
of  his  life,  that  he  shared  the  dangers  of  the  defeat  at  Pentland 
Hills,  27th  November  1666,  in  which  the  Cameronians  were  to- 
tally routed.  After  the  engagement,  he  found  his  way  again  to 
Ireland,  but  was  hunted  out  of  Ulster  by  Lord  Dungannon,  who 
pursued  him  very  closely.  On  his  return  to  England,  he  made 
himself  again  notorious  by  an  exploit,  of  which  the  very  singular 
particulars  are  contained  in  the  pamphlet  already  mentioned.^ 

>  Remarks  on  the  Life  of  the  famed  Mr.  Blood.  London,  1680.   Folio. 
460 


NOTES 

The  narrative  runs  as  follows:  —  Among  the  persons  apprehended 
for  the  late  fanatic  conspiracy  'was  one  Captain  Mason,  a  person 
for  whom  Mr.  Blood  had  a  particular  affection  and  friendship. 
This  person  was  to  be  removed  from  London  to  one  of  the  north- 
ern counties,  in  order  to  his  trial  at  the  assizes;  and  to  that  intent 
was  sent  down  with  eight  of  the  duke's  troop  to  guard  him,  being 
reckoned  to  be  a  person  bold  and  courageous.  Mr.  Blood,  having 
notice  of  this  journey,  resolves  by  the  way  to  rescue  his  friend. 
The  prisoner  and  his  guard  went  away  in  the  morning,  and  Mr. 
Blood,  having  made  choice  of  three  more  of  his  acquaintance,  set 
forward  the  same  day  at  night,  without  boots,  upon  small  horses, 
and  their  pistols  in  their  trowsers,  to  prevent  suspicion.  But  op- 
portunities are  not  so  easily  had,  neither  were  all  places  conven- 
ient, so  that  the  convoy  and  their  prisoner  were  gone  a  good  way 
beyond  Newark  before  Mr.  Blood  and  his  friends  had  any  scent 
of  their  prisoner.  At  one  place  they  set  a  sentinel  to  watch  his 
coming  by;  but  whether  it  was  out  of  fear,  or  that  the  person  was 
tired  with  a  tedious  expectation,  the  sentinel  brought  them  no 
tidings  either  of  the  prisoner  or  his  guard,  insomuch  that  Mr. 
Blood  and  his  companions  began  to  think  their  friend  so  far  be- 
fore them  upon  the  road  that  it  would  be  in  vain  to  follow  him. 
Yet,  not  willing  to  give  over  an  enterprise  so  generously  under- 
taken, upon  Mr.  Blood's  encouragement  they  rode  on,  though 
despairing  of  success,  till  finding  it  grow  towards  evening,  and 
meeting  with  a  convenient  inn  upon  the  road,  in  a  small  village  not 
far  from  Doncaster,  they  resolved  to  lie  there  all  night,  and  return 
for  London  the  next  morning.  In  that  inn  they  had  not  sat  long 
in  a  room  next  the  street,  condoling  among  themselves  the  ill  suc- 
cess of  such  a  tedious  journey,  and  the  misfortune  of  their  friend, 
before  the  convoy  came  thundering  up  to  the  door  of  the  said  inn 
with  their  prisoner,  Captain  Mason  having  made  choice  of  that 
inn,  as  being  best  known  to  him,  to  give  his  guardians  the  re- 
freshment of  a  dozen  of  drink.  There  Mr.  Blood,  unseen,  had  a 
full  view  of  his  friend,  and  of  the  persons  he  had  to  deal  with.  He 
had  bespoke  a  small  supper,  which  was  at  the  fire,  so  that  he  had 
but  very  little  time  for  consultation,  finding  that  Captain  Mason's 
party  did  not  intend  to  alight.  On  this  account  he  only  gave 
general  directions  to  his  associates  to  follow  his  example  in  what- 
ever they  saw  him  do.  In  haste,  therefore,  they  called  for  their 
horses  and  threw  down  their  money  for  their  reckoning,  telling 
the  woman  of  the  house  that,  since  they  had  met  with  such  good 
company,  they  were  resolved  to  go   forward.    Captain  Mason 

461 


NOTES 

went  off  first  upon  a  sorry  beast,  and  with  him  the  commander  of 
the  party  and  four  more;  the  rest  staid  behind  to  make  an  end  of 
their  Hquor.  Then  away  marched  one  more  single,  and  in  a  very 
small  time  after  the  last  two.  By  this  time  Mr.  Blood  and  one  of 
his  friends,  being  horsed,  followed  the  two  that  were  hindmost, 
and  soon  overtook  them.  These  four  rode  some  little  time  to- 
gether, Mr.  Blood  on  the  right  hand  of  the  two  soldiers  and  his 
friend  on  the  left.  But  upon  a  sudden  Mr.  Blood  laid  hold  of  the 
reins  of  the  horse  next  him,  while  his  friend,  in  observation  to  his 
directions,  did  the  same  on  the  other  hand;  and  having  presently 
by  surprise  dismounted  the  soldiers,  pulled  off  their  bridles  and 
sent  their  horses  to  pick  their  grass  where  they  pleased.  These  two 
being  thus  made  sure  of,  Mr.  Blood  pursues  his  game,  intending  to 
have  reached  the  single  trooper;  but  he  being  got  to  the  rest  of  his 
fellows,  now  reduced  to  six,  and  a  barber  of  York,  that  travelled 
in  their  company,  Mr.  Blood  made  up,  heads  the  whole  party, 
and  stops  them;  of  which  some  of  the  foremost,  looking  upon  him 
to  be  either  drunk  or  mad,  thought  the  rebuke  of  a  switch  to  be 
a  sufficient  chastisement  of  such  a  rash  presumption,  which  they 
exercised  with  more  contempt  than  fury,  till,  by  the  rudeness  of 
his  compliments  in  return,  he  gave  them  to  understand  he  was 
not  in  jest,  but  in  very  good  earnest.  He  was  soon  seconded  by 
his  friend  that  was  with  him  in  his  first  exploit;  but  there  had 
been  several  rough  blows  dealt  between  the  unequal  number  of 
six  to  two  before  Mr.  Blood's  two  other  friends  came  up  to  their 
assistance;  nay,  I  may  safely  say  six  to  two,  for  the  barber  of 
York,  whether  out  of  his  natural  propensity  to  the  sport,  or  that 
his  pot-valiantness  had  made  him  so  generous  as  to  help  his  fellow 
travellers,  would  needs  show  his  valour  at  the  beginning  of  the 
fray.  But  better  had  he  been  at  the  latter  end  of  a  feast;  for 
though  he  showed  his  prudence  to  take  the  stronger  side,  as  he 
guessed  by  the  number,  yet  because  he  would  take  no  warning, 
which  was  often  given  him,  not  to  put  himself  to  the  hazard  of 
losing  a  guitar  finger  by  meddling  in  a  business  that  nothing  con- 
cerned him,  he  lost  his  life,  as  they  were  forced  to  despatch  him, 
in  the  first  place,  for  giving  them  a  needless  trouble.  The  barber, 
being  become  an  useless  instrument,  and  the  other  of  Mr.  Blood's 
friends  being  come  up,  the  skirmish  began  to  be  very  smart,  the 
four  assailants  having  singled  out  their  champions  as  fairly  and 
equally  as  they  could.  All  this  while  Captain  Mason,  being  rode 
before  upon  his  thirty-shilling  steed,  wondering  his  guard  came 
not  with  him,  looked  back,  and,  observing  a  combustion  and  that 

462 


NOTES 

they  were  altogether  by  the  ears,  knew  not  what  to  think.  He  con- 
jectured it  at  first  to  have  been  some  intrigue  upon  him,  as  if  the 
troopers  had  a  design  to  tempt  him  to  an  escape,  which  might 
afterwards  prove  more  to  his  prejudice;  just  Uke  cats,  that,  with 
regardless  scorn,  seem  to  give  the  distressed  mouse  all  the  liberty 
in  the  world  to  get  away  out  of  their  paws,  but  soon  recover  their 
prey  again  at  one  jump.  Thereupon,  unwilling  to  undergo  the 
hazard  of  such  a  trail,  he  comes  back,  at  which  time  Mr.  Blood 
cried  out  to  him,  "Horse  —  horse,  quickly! "  an  alarm  so  amazing 
at  first,  that  he  could  not  believe  it  to  be  his  friend's  voice  when 
he  heard  it;  but  as  the  thoughts  of  military  men  are  soon  sum- 
moned together,  and  never  hold  Spanish  councils,  the  captain 
presently  settled  his  resolution,  mounts  the  next  horse  that  wanted 
a  rider,  and  puts  it  in  for  a  share  of  his  own  self-preservation.  In 
this  bloody  conflict  Mr.  Blood  was  three  times  unhorsed,  occa- 
sioned by  his  forgetfulness,  as  having  omitted  to  new  girt  his  sad- 
dle, which  the  ostler  had  unloosed  upon  the  wadding  at  his  first 
coming  into  the  inn.  Being  then  so  often  dismounted,  and  not 
knowing  the  reason,  which  the  occasion  would  not  give  him  leave 
to  consider,  he  resolved  to  fight  it  out  on  foot;  of  which  two  of  the 
soldiers  taking  the  advantage  singled  him  out  and  drove  him  into 
a  courtyard,  where  he  made  a  stand  with  a  full  body,  his  sword  in 
one  hand  and  his  pistol  in  the  other.  One  of  the  soldiers,  taking 
that  advantage  of  his  open  body,  shot  him  near  the  shoulder-blade 
of  his  pistol  arm,  at  which  time  he  had  four  other  bullets  in  his 
body  that  he  had  received  before;  which  the  soldier  observing, 
flung  his  discharged  pistol  at  him  with  that  good  aim  and  violence, 
that  he  hit  him  a  stunning  blow  just  under  the  forehead,  upon  the 
upper  part  of  the  nose  between  the  eyes,  which  for  the  present  so 
amazed  him,  that  he  gave  himself  over  for  a  dead  man;  yet  resolv- 
ing to  give  one  sparring  blow  before  he  expired,  such  is  the  strange 
provocation  and  success  of  despair,  with  one  vigorous  stroke  of 
his  sword  he  brought  his  adversary  with  a  vengeance  from  his 
horse,  and  laid  him  in  a  far  worse  condition  than  himself  at  his 
horse's  feet.  At  that  time,  full  of  anger  and  revenge,  he  was  just 
going  to  make  an  end  of  his  conquest  by  giving  him  the  fatal  stab, 
but  that  in  the  very  nick  of  time  Captain  Mason,  having,  by  the 
help  of  his  friends,  done  his  business  where  they  had  fought,  by 
the  death  of  some  and  the  disabling  of  others  that  opposed  them, 
came  in,  and  bid  him  hold  and  spare  the  life  of  one  that  had  been 
the  civilest  person  to  him  upon  the  road,  a  fortunate  piece  of  kind- 
ness in  the  one  and  of  gratitude  in  the  other;  which  Mr.  Blood 

463 


NOTES 

easily  condescending  to,  by  the  joint  assistance  of  the  captain,  the 
other  soldier  was  soon  mastered,  and  the  victory,  after  a  sharp 
fight,  that  lasted  above  two  hours,  was  at  length  completed.  You 
may  be  sure  the  fight  was  well  maintained  on  both  sides,  while 
two  of  the  soldiers,  besides  the  barber,  were  slain  upon  the  place, 
three  unhorsed,  and  the  rest  wounded.  And  it  was  observable 
that,  though  the  encounter  happened  in  a  village,  where  a  great 
number  of  people  were  spectators  of  the  combat,  yet  none  would 
adventure  the  rescue  of  either  party,  as  not  knowing  which  was  in 
the  wrong  or  which  in  the  right,  and  were  therefore  wary  of  being 
arbitrators  in  such  a  desperate  contest,  where  they  saw  the  reward 
of  assistance  to  be  nothing  but  present  death.  After  the  combat 
was  over,  Mr.  Blood  and  his  friends  divided  themselves  and  parted 
several  ways.* 

Before  he  had  engaged  in  this  adventure.  Blood  had  placed  his 
wife  and  son  in  an  apothecary's  shop  at  Rumford,  under  the  name 
of  Weston.  He  himself  afterwards  affected  to  practise  as  a  physi- 
cian under  that  of  Ayliffe,  under  which  guise  he  remained  con- 
cealed until  his  wounds  were  cured,  and  the  hue  and  cry  against 
him  and  his  accomplices  was  somewhat  abated. 

In  the  meantime,  this  extraordinary  man,  whose  spirits  toiled 
in  framing  the  most  daring  enterprises,  had  devised  a  plot  which, 
as  it  respected  the  person  at  whom  it  was  aimed,  was  of  a  much 
more  ambitious  character  than  that  for  the  delivery  of  Mason.  It 
had  for  its  object  the  seizure  of  the  person  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond, 
his  ancient  enemy,  in  the  streets  of  London.  In  this  some  have 
thought  he  only  meant  to  gratify  his  resentment,  while  others  sup- 
pose that  he  might  hope  to  extort  some  important  advantages  by 
detaining  his  Grace  in  his  hands  as  a  prisoner.  The  duke's  histo- 
rian, Carte,  gives  the  following  account  of  this  extraordinary  en- 
terprise: 'The  Prince  of  Orange  came  this  year  (1670)  into  Eng- 
land, and  being  invited  on  December  6  to  an  entertainment  in  the 
city  of  London,  his  Grace  attended  him  thither.  As  he  was  return- 
ing homewards  in  a  dark  night,  and  going  up  St.  James's  Street,  at 
the  end  of  which,  facing  the  palace,  stood  Clarendon  House, 
where  he  then  lived,  he  was  attacked  by  Blood  and  five  of  his  ac- 
complices. The  duke  always  used  to  go  attended  with  six  footmen ; 
but  as  they  were  too  heavy  a  load  to  ride  upon  a  coach,  he  al- 
ways had  iron  spikes  behind  it  to  keep  them  from  getting  up;  and 
continued  this  practice  to  his  dying  day,  even  after  this  attempt 
of  assassination.  These  six  footmen  used  to  walk  on  both  sides  of 
the  street  over  against  the  coach:  but,  by  some  contrivance  or 

464 


NOTES 

other,  they  were  all  stopped  and  out  of  the  way,  when  the  duke 
was  taken  out  of  his  coach  by  Blood  and  his  son,  and  mounted  on 
horseback  behind  one  of  the  horsemen  in  his  company.  The  coach- 
man drove  on  to  Clarendon  House,  and  told  the  porter  that  the 
duke  had  been  seized  by  two  men,  who  had  carried  him  down 
Pickadilly.  The  porter  immediately  ran  that  way,  and  Mr.  James 
Clarke,  chancing  to  be  at  that  time  in  the  court  of  the  house,  fol- 
lowed with  all  possible  haste,  having  first  alarmed  the  family,  and 
ordered  the  servants  to  come  after  him  as  fast  as  they  could. 
Blood,  it  seems,  either  to  gratify  the  humour  of  his  patron,  who 
had  set  him  upon  this  work,  or  to  glut  his  own  revenge  by  putting 
his  Grace  to  the  same  ignominious  death  which  his  accompUces  in 
the  treasonable  design  upon  Dublin  Castle  had  suffered,  had  taken 
a  strong  fancy  into  his  head  to  hang  the  duke  at  Tyburn.  No- 
thing could  have  saved  his  Grace's  life,  but  that  extravagant 
imagination  and  passion  of  the  villain,  who,  leaving  the  duke 
mounted  and  buckled  to  one  of  his  comrades,  rode  on  before,  and, 
as  is  said,  actually  tied  a  rope  to  the  gallows,  and  then  rode  back 
to  see  what  was  become  of  his  accomplices,  whom  he  met  riding  off 
in  a  great  hurry.  The  horseman  to  whom  the  duke  was  tied  was  a 
person  of  great  strength,  but  being  embarrassed  by  his  Grace's 
struggling,  could  not  advance  as  fast  as  he  desired.  He  was,  how- 
ever, got  a  good  way  beyond  Berkeley  (now  Devonshire)  House, 
towards  Knightsbridge,  when  the  duke,  having  got  his  foot  under 
the  man's,  unhorsed  him,  and  they  both  fell  down  together  in  the 
mud,  where  they  were  struggling  when  the  porter  and  Mr.  Clarke 
came  up.  The  villain  then  disengaged  himself,  and  seeing  the 
neighbourhood  alarmed,  and  numbers  of  people  running  towards 
them,  got  on  horseback,  and  having,  with  one  of  his  comrades, 
fired  their  pistols  at  the  duke  (but  missed  him,  as  taking  their  aim 
in  the  dark  and  in  a  hurry),  rode  off  as  fast  as  they  could  to  save 
themselves.  The  duke  (now  sixty  years  of  age)  was  quite  spent 
with  struggling,  so  that  when  Mr.  Clarke  and  the  porter  came  up, 
they  knew  him  rather  by  feeling  his  star  than  by  any  sound  of 
voice  he  could  utter;  and  they  were  forced  to  carry  him  home  and 
jay  him  on  a  bed  to  recover  his  spirits.  He  received  some  wounds 
and  bruises  in  the  struggle,  which  confined  him  within  doors  for 
some  days.  The  King,  when  he  heard  of  this  intended  assassin- 
ation of  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  expressed  a  great  resentment  on  that 
occasion,  and  issued  out  a  proclamation  for  the  discovery  and  ap- 
prehension of  the  miscreants  concerned  in  the  attempt.' 

Blood,  however,  lay  concealed,  and  with  his  usual  success  es- 

28  465 


NOTES 

caped  apprehension.  While  thus  lurking,  he  entertained  and  di- 
gested an  exploit  evincing  the  same  atrocity  which  had  character- 
ised the  undertakings  he  had  formerly  been  engaged  in ;  there  was 
also  to  be  traced  in  his  new  device  something  of  that  pecuUar  dis- 
position which  inclined  him  to  be  desirous  of  adding  to  the  murder 
of  the  Duke  of  Ormond  the  singular  infamy  of  putting  him  to 
death  at  Tyburn.  With  something  of  the  same  spirit,  he  now  re- 
solved to  show  his  contempt  of  monarchy  and  all  its  symbols  by 
stealing  the  crown,  sceptre,  and  other  articles  of  the  regaha  out  of 
the  office  in  which  they  were  deposited,  and  enriching  himself  and 
his  needy  associates  with  the  produce  of  the  spoils.  This  feat,  by 
which  Blood  is  now  chiefly  remembered,  is,  like  aU  his  transac- 
tions, marked  with  a  daring  strain  of  courage  and  duplicity,  and, 
like  most  of  his  undertakings,  was  very  likely  to  have  proved  suc- 
cessful. John  Bayley,  Esq.,  in  his  History  and  Antiquities  of  the 
Tower  of  London,  gives  the  following  distinct  account  of  this 
curious  exploit.  At  this  period,  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot  was  keeper,  as 
it  was  called,  of  the  jewel  house. 

'It  was  soon  after  the  appointment  of  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot  that 
the  regaha  in  the  Tower  first  became  objects  of  public  inspection, 
which  King  Charles  allowed  in  consequence  of  the  reduction  in 
the  emoluments  of  the  master's  office.  The  profits  which  arose 
from  showing  the  jewels  to  strangers,  Sir  Gilbert  assigned  in  lieu 
of  a  salary  to  the  person  whom  he  had  appointed  to  the  care  of 
them.  This  was  an  old  confidential  servant  of  his  father's,  one 
Talbot  Edwards,  whose  name  is  handed  down  to  posterity  as 
keeper  of  the  regalia,  when  the  notorious  attempt  to  steal  the 
crown  was  made  in  the  year  1673;  the  following  account  of  which 
is  chiefly  derived  from  a  relation  which  Mr.  Edwards  himself 
made  of  the  transaction. 

'About  three  weeks  before  this  audacious  villain  Blood  made 
his  attempt  upon  the  crown,  he  came  to  the  Tower  in  the  habit  of 
a  parson,  with  a  long  cloak,  cassock,  and  canonical  girdle,  accom- 
panied by  a  woman,  whom  he  called  his  wife.  They  desired  to  see 
the  regaha,  and,  just  as  their  wishes  had  been  gratified,  the  lady 
feigned  sudden  indisposition;  this  called  forth  the  kind  offices  of 
Mrs.  Edwards,  the  keeper's  wife,  who,  having  courteously  invited 
her  into  their  house  to  repose  herself,  she  soon  recovered,  and, 
on  their  departure,  professed  themselves  thankful  for  this  civility. 
A  few  days  after.  Blood  came  again,  bringing  a  present  to  Mrs. 
Edwards  of  four  pairs  of  white  gloves  from  his  pretended  wife; 
and  having  thus  begun  the  acquaintance,  they  made  frequent 

466 


NOTES 

visits  to  improve  it.  After  a  short  respite  of  their  compliments, 
the  disguised  ruffian  returned  again;  and  in  conversation  with 
Mrs.  Edwards,  said  that  his  wife  could  discourse  of  nothing  but 
the  kindness  of  those  good  people  in  the  Tower;  that  she  had  long 
studied,  and  at  length  bethought  herself  of  a  handsome  way  of 
requital.  "You  have,"  quoth  he,  "a  pretty  young  gentlewoman 
for  your  daughter,  and  I  have  a  young  nephew,  who  has  two  or 
three  hundred  a-year  in  land,  and  is  at  my  disposal.  If  your 
daughter  be  free,  and  you  approve  it,  I  'II  bring  him  here  to  see  her, 
and  we  will  endeavour  to  make  it  a  match."  This  was  easily 
assented  to  by  old  Mr.  Edwards,  who  invited  the  parson  to  dine 
with  him  on  that  day;  he  readily  accepted  the  invitation;  and  tak- 
ing upon  him  to  say  grace,  performed  it  with  great  seeming  de- 
votion, and  casting  up  his  eyes,  concluded  it  with  a  prayer  for  the 
king,  queen,  and  royal  family.  After  dinner,  he  went  up  to  see  the 
rooms,  and  observing  a  handsome  case  of  pistols  hang  there,  ex- 
pressed a  great  desire  to  buy  them,  to  present  to  a  young  lord,  who 
was  his  neighbour  —  a  pretence  by  which  he  thought  of  disarming 
the  house  against  the  period  intended  for  the  execution  of  his  de- 
sign. At  his  departure,  which  was  a  canonical  benediction  of  the 
good  company,  he  appointed  a  day  and  hour  to  bring  his  young 
nephew  to  see  his  mistress,  which  was  the  very  day  that  he  made 
his  daring  attempt.  The  good  old  gentleman  had  got  up  ready  to 
receive  his  guest,  and  the  daughter  was  in  her  best  dress  to  enter- 
tain her  expected  lover;  when,  behold.  Parson  Blood,  with  three 
more,  came  to  the  jewel  house,  all  armed  with  rapier-blades  in 
their  canes,  and  every  one  a  dagger  and  a  brace  of  pocket-pistols. 
Two  of  his  companions  entered  in  with  him,  on  pretence  of  seeing 
the  crown,  and  the  third  staid  at  the  door,  as  if  to  look  after  the 
young  lady,  a  jewel  of  a  more  charming  description,  but  in  reality 
as  a  watch.  The  daughter,  who  thought  it  not  modest  to  come 
down  till  she  was  called,  sent  the  maid  to  take  a  view  of  the  com- 
pany, and  bring  a  description  of  her  gallant;  and  the  servant,  con- 
ceiving that  he  was  the  intended  bridegroom  who  staid  at  the 
door,  being  the  youngest  of  the  party,  returned  to  soothe  the 
anxiety  of  her  young  mistress  with  the  idea  she  had  formed  of  his 
person.  Blood  told  Mr.  Edwards  that  they  would  not  go  upstairs 
till  his  wife  came,  and  desired  him  to  show  his  friends  the  crown 
to  pass  the  time  till  then;  and  they  had  no  sooner  entered  the 
room,  and  the  door,  as  usual,  shut,  than  a  cloak  was  thrown  over 
the  old  man's  head  and  a  gag  put  in  his  mouth.  Thus  secured, 
they  told  him  that  their  resolution  was  to  have  the  crown,  globe, 

467 


NOTES 

and  sceptre;  and,  if  he  would  quietly  submit  to  it,  they  would 
spare  his  life;  otherwise  he  was  to  expect  no  mercy.  He  thereupon 
endeavoured  to  make  all  the  noise  he  possibly  could,  to  be  heard 
above;  they  then  knocked  him  down  with  a  wooden  mallet,  and 
told  him  that,  if  yet  he  would  lie  quietly,  they  would  spare  his  life; 
but  if  not,  upon  his  next  attempt  to  discover  them,  they  would  kill 
him.  Mr.  Edwards,  however,  according  to  his  own  account,  was 
not  intimidated  by  this  threat,  but  strained  himself  to  make  the 
greater  noise,  and  in  consequence  received  several  more  blows  on 
the  head  with  the  mallet,  and  was  stabbed  in  the  belly;  this  again 
brought  the  poor  old  man  to  the  ground,  where  he  lay  for  some 
time  in  so  senseless  a  state  that  one  of  the  villains  pronovmced  him 
dead.  Edwards  had  come  a  little  to  himself,  and  hearing  this,  lay 
quietly,  conceiving  it  best  to  be  thought  so.  The  booty  was  now 
to  be  disposed  of,  and  one  of  them,  named  Parrot,  secreted  the 
orb.  Blood  held  the  crown  under  his  cloak;  and  the  third  was 
about  to  file  the  sceptre  in  two,  in  order  that  it  might  be  placed  in 
a  bag,  brought  for  that  purpose;  but,  fortunately,  the  son  of  Mr. 
Edwards,  who  had  been  in  Flanders  with  Sir  John  Talbot,  and,  on 
his  landing  in  England,  had  obtained  leave  to  come  away  post  to 
visit  his  father,  happened  to  arrive  whilst  this  scene  was  acting; 
and  on  coming  to  the  door,  the  person  that  stood  sentinel  asked 
with  whom  he  would  speak;  to  which  he  answered,  that  he  be- 
longed to  the  house;  and,  perceiving  the  person  to  be  a  stranger, 
told  him  that  if  he  had  any  business  with  his  father  that  he  would 
acquaint  him  with  it,  and  so  hastened  upstairs  to  salute  his  friends. 
This  unexpected  accident  spread  confusion  amongst  the  party, 
and  they  instantly  decamped  with  the  crown  and  orb,  leaving  the 
sceptre  yet  unfiled.  The  aged  keeper  now  raised  himself  upon  his 
legs,  forced  the  gag  from  his  mouth,  and  cried,  "Treason!  murder!" 
which  being  heard  by  his  daughter,  who  was,  perhaps,  anxiously 
expecting  far  other  sounds,  ran  out  and  reiterated  the  cry.  The 
alarm  now  became  general,  and  young  Edwards  and  his  brother- 
in-law,  Captain  Beckman,  ran  after  the  conspirators,  whom  a 
warder  put  himself  in  a  position  to  stop,  but  Blood  discharged  a 
pistol  at  him,  and  he  fell,  although  unhurt,  and  the  thieves  pro- 
ceeded safely  to  the  next  post,  where  one  Sill,  who  had  been  a  sol- 
dier under  Cromwell,  stood  sentinel ;  but  he  offered  no  opposition, 
and  they  accordingly  passed  the  drawbridge.  Horses  were  waiting 
for  them  at  St.  Catherine's  gate;  and  as  they  ran  that  way  along 
the  Tower  wharf,  they  themselves  cried  out,  "Stop  the  rogues!" 
by  which  they  passed  on  unsuspected,  till  Captain  Beckman  over- 

468 


NOTES 

took  them.  At  his  head  Blood  fired  another  pistol,  but  missed  him, 
and  was  seized.  Under  the  cloak  of  this  daring  villain  was  found 
the  crown,  and,  although  he  saw  himself  a  prisoner,  he  had  yet  the 
impudence  to  struggle  for  his  prey;  and  when  it  was  finally  wrested 
from  him,  said,  "It  was  a  gallant  attempt,  however  unsuccessful: 
it  was  for  a  crown!"  Parrot,  who  had  formerly  served  under 
General  Harrison,  was  also  taken;  but  Hunt,  Blood's  son-in-law, 
reached  his  horse  and  rode  off,  as  did  two  other  of  the  thieves;  but 
he  was  soon  afterwards  stopped,  and  likewise  committed  to  cus- 
tody. In  this  struggle  and  confusion,  the  great  pearl,  a  large  dia- 
mond, and  several  smaller  stones  were  lost  from  the  crown ;  but 
the  two  former,  and  some  of  the  latter,  were  afterwards  found 
and  restored;  and  the  Ballas  ruby,  broken  off  the  sceptre,  being 
found  in  Parrot's  pocket,  nothing  considerable  was  eventually 
missing. 

'As  soon  as  the  prisoners  were  secured,  young  Edwards  has- 
tened to  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  who  was  then  master  and  treasurer 
of  the  jewel  house,  and  gave  him  an  account  of  the  transaction. 
Sir  Gilbert  instantly  went  to  the  King  and  acquainted  his  Majesty 
with  it ;  and  his  Majesty  commanded  him  to  proceed  forthwith  to 
the  Tower,  to  see  how  matters  stood,  to  take  the  examination  of 
Blood  and  the  others,  and  to  return  and  report  it  to  him.  Sir  Gil- 
bert accordingly  went;  but  the  King  in  the  meantime  was  per- 
suaded by  some  about  him  to  hear  the  examination  himself,  and 
the  prisoners  were  in  consequence  sent  for  to  Whitehall,  a  cir- 
cumstance which  is  supposed  to  have  saved  these  daring  wretches 
from  the  gallows.' 

On  his  examination  under  such  an  atrocious  charge.  Blood 
audaciously  replied,  that  he  would  never  betray  an  associate,  or 
defend  himself  at  the  expense  of  uttering  a  falsehood.  He  even 
averred,  perhaps,  more  than  was  true  against  himself,  when  he 
confessed  that  he  had  lain  concealed  among  the  reeds  for  the  pur- 
pose of  killing  the  King  with  a  carabine  while  Charles  was  bathing; 
but  he  pretended  that  on  this  occasion  his  purpose  was  discon- 
certed by  a  secret  awe  —  appearing  to  verify  the  allegation  in 
Shakspeare,  'There's  such  divinity  doth  hedge  a  king,  that  trea- 
son can  but  peep  to  what  it  would,  acts  little  of  its  will.'  To  this 
story,  true  or  false.  Blood  added  a  declaration  that  he  was  at  the 
head  of  a  numerous  following,  disbanded  soldiers  and  others,  who, 
from  motives  of  religion,  were  determined  to  take  the  life  of  the 
King,  as  the  only  obstacle  to  their  obtaining  freedom  of  worship 
and  liberty  of  conscience.   These  men,  he  said,  would  be  deter- 

469 


NOTES 

mined  by  his  execution  to  persist  in  the  resolution  of  putting 
Charles  to  death;  whereas,  he  averred  that,  by  sparing  his  life, 
the  King  might  disarm  a  hundred  poniards  directed  against  his 
own.  This  view  of  the  case  made  a  strong  impression  on  Charles, 
whose  selfishness  was  uncommonly  acute;  yet  he  felt  the  impro- 
priety of  pardoning  the  attempt  upon  the  life  of  the  Duke  of  Or- 
mond,  and  condescended  to  ask  that  faithful  servant's  permission 
before  he  would  exert  his  authority  to  spare  the  assassin.  Ormond 
answered  that,  'if  the  King  chose  to  pardon  the  attempt  to  steal 
his  crown,  he  himself  might  easily  consent  that  the  attempt  upon 
his  own  life,  as  a  crime  of  much  less  importance,  should  also  be 
forgiven.'  Charles,  accordingly,  not  only  gave  Blood  a  pardon, 
but  endowed  him  with  a  pension  of  £500  a  year;  which  led  many 
persons  to  infer,  not  only  that  the  King  wished  to  preserve  him- 
self from  the  future  attempts  of  this  desperate  man,  but  that  he 
had  it  also  in  view  to  secure  the  services  of  so  determined  a  ruffian, 
in  case  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of  employing  him  in  his 
own  line  of  business.  There  is  a  striking  contrast  between  the  fate 
of  Blood,  pensioned  and  rewarded  for  this  audacious  attempt,  and 
that  of  the  faithful  Edwards,  who  may  be  safely  said  to  have  sac- 
rificed his  life  in  defence  of  the  property  entrusted  to  him!  In 
remuneration  for  his  fidelity  and  his  sufferings,  Edwards  only  ob- 
tained a  grant  of  £200  from  the  Exchequer,  with  £100  to  his  son; 
but  so  little  pains  were  taken  about  the  regular  discharge  of  these 
donatives,  that  the  parties  entitled  to  them  were  glad  to  sell 
them  for  half  the  sum.  After  this  wonderful  escape  from  justice. 
Blood  seems  to  have  affected  the  airs  of  a  person  in  favour,  and 
was  known  to  solicit  the  suits  of  many  of  the  old  Republican  party, 
for  whom  he  is  said  to  have  gained  considerable  indulgences, 
when  the  old  Cavaliers,  who  had  ruined  themselves  in  the  cause  of 
Charles  the  First,  could  obtain  neither  countenance  nor  restitu- 
tion. During  the  ministry  called  the  Cabal,  he  was  high  in  favour 
with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham;  till  upon  their  declension  his  fa- 
vour began  also  to  fail,  and  we  find  him  again  engaged  in  oppos- 
ition to  the  court.  Blood  was  not  likely  to  lie  idle  amid  the  busy 
intrigues  and  factions  which  succeeded  the  celebrated  discovery  of 
Gates.  He  appears  to  have  passed  again  into  violent  opposition 
to  the  court,  but  his  steps  were  no  longer  so  sounding  as  to  be 
heard  above  his  contemporaries.  North  hints  at  his  being  involved 
in  a  plot  against  his  former  friend  and  patron  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham. The  passage  is  quoted  at  length  in  Note  12,  p.  454. 
.   The  plot,  it  appears,  consisted  in  an  attempt  to  throw  some 

470 


NOTES 

scandalous  imputation  upon  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  for  a  con- 
spiracy to  effect  which  Edward  Christian,  Arthur  O'Brien,  and 
Thomas  Blood  were  indicted  in  the  King's  Bench,  and  found 
guilty,  25th  June  1680.  The  damages  sued  for  were  laid  as  high 
as  £10,000,  for  which  Colonel  Blood  found  bail.  But  he  appears  to 
have  been  severely  affected  in  health,  as,  24th  August  1680,  he 
departed  this  life  in  a  species  of  lethargy.  It  is  remarkable  enough 
that  the  story  of  his  death  and  funeral  was  generally  regarded  as 
fabricated,  preparative  to  some  exploit  of  his  own;  nay,  so  gen- 
eral was  this  report,  that  the  coroner  caused  his  body  to  be  raised, 
and  a  jury  to  sit  upon  it,  for  the  purpose  of  ensuring  that  the  cele- 
brated Blood  had  at  length  undergone  the  common  fate  of  man- 
kind. There  was  found  unexpected  difficulty  in  proving  that  the 
miserable  corpse  before  the  jury  was  that  of  the  celebrated  con- 
spirator. It  was  at  length  recognised  by  some  of  his  acquaintances, 
who  swore  to  the  preternatural  size  of  the  thumb,  so  that  the  cor- 
oner, convinced  of  the  identity,  remanded  this  once  active,  and 
now  quiet,  person  to  his  final  rest  in  Tothill  Fields. 

Such  were  the  adventures  of  an  individual  whose  real  exploits, 
whether  the  motive,  the  danger,  or  the  character  of  the  enterprises 
be  considered,  equal,  or  rather  surpass,  those  fictions  of  violence 
and  peril  which  we  love  to  peruse  in  romance.  They  cannot,  there- 
fore, be  deemed  foreign  to  a  work  dedicated,  like  the  present,  to 
the  preservation  of  extraordinary  occurrences,  whether  real  or 
fictitious. 

Note  23,  p.  442 

This  little  piece  of  superstition  was  suggested  by  the  following 
incident.  The  Author  of  Waverley  happened  to  be  standing  by 
with  other  gentlemen,  while  the  captain  of  the  Selkirk  Yeomanry 
was  purchasing  a  horse  for  the  use  of  his  trumpeter.  The  animal 
offered  was  a  handsome  one,  and  neither  the  officer,  who  was  an 
excellent  jockey,  nor  any  one  present,  could  see  any  imperfection 
in  wind  or  limb.  But  a  person  happened  to  pass,  who  was 
asked  to  give  an  opinion.  This  man  was  called  Blind  Willie,  who 
drove  a  small  trade  in  cattle  and  horses,  and,  what  seemed  as  ex- 
traordinary, in  watches,  notwithstanding  his  having  been  born 
blind.  He  was  accounted  to  possess  a  rare  judgment  in  these  sub- 
jects of  traffic.  So  soon  as  he  had  examined  the  horse  in  question, 
he  immediately  pronounced  it  to  have  something  of  his  own  com- 
plaint, and,  in  plain  words,  stated  it  to  be  blind,  or  verging  upon 
that  imperfection,  which  was  found  to  be  the  case  on  close  cxam- 

471 


NOTES 

ination.  None  present  had  suspected  this  fault  in  the  animal; 
which  is  not  wonderful,  considering  that  it  may  frequently  exist 
without  any  appearance  in  the  organ  affected.  BHnd  Willie,  being 
asked  how  he  made  a  discovery  imperceptible  to  so  many  gentle- 
men who  had  their  eyesight,  explained  that,  after  feeling  the 
horse's  limbs,  he  laid  one  hand  on  its  heart,  and  drew  the  other 
briskly  across  the  animal's  eyes,  when,  finding  no  increase  in  puls- 
ation in  consequence  of  the  latter  motion,  he  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  horse  must  be  blind. 


GLOSSARY 


a,  in,  he. 

accompt,  an  account. 

ail,  to  come  in  the  way  of,  to  pre- 
vent. 

Alsatia,  a  sanctuary  in  Whitefriars, 
London. 

an,  if,  and. 

assoilzied,  acquitted. 

awa,  away. 

baggage,  a  young  woman. 

bairn,  a  child. 

baldric,  a  shoulder-belt  to  support  a 
sword  or  a  bugle. 

bale,  misery,  calamity. 

bandoleer,  a  shoulder-belt. 

barmoot  court,  a  petty  court  for  set- 
tling minor  disputes. 

Bams-elms,  a  favourite  place  of  re- 
sort near  Mortlake,  Surrey. 

baton,  to  die  under  the,  to  be  beaten 
to  death. 

beaufet,  beauffet,  a  sideboard,  a  re- 
freshment bar. 

beaver,  a  hat. 

belly-timber,  food. 

bilboa,  a  famous  Spanish  sword. 

black  ban  dog,  a  dog  chained  or  tied 
up,  a  mastiff  or  bloodhound. 

black-pudding,  a  kind  of  sausage 
made  of  blood  and  suet. 

blink,  a  twinkling. 

blood-stick,  a  piece  of  hard  wood 
loaded  at  one  end  with  lead. 

blythe,  happy,  merry. 

body  of  me,  a  popular  oath. 

bonny,  pretty,  lovely. 

boree,  bourree,  a  kind  of  dance. 

bosom-friend,  an  article  of  wearing 
apparel  to  protect  the  bosom  from 
cold. 

broad -piece,  a  gold  coin  worth  205. 

brown-bill,  a  military  weapon,  painted 
brown. 


budget,  a  bag. 

buskin,  a  high  boot  with  thick  soles. 

cabala,  a  secret  system  of  theology 
and  magic  current  among  the 
Jews. 

caftan,  a  long  under-tunic  or  vest 
tied  at  the  waist  with  a  girdle. 

canaglia,  a  rabble,  a  mob. 

caroche,  a  coach  of  a  stately  and 
luxurious  kind. 

cartel,  a  challenge. 

carwhichet,  fun,  a  conundrum. 

cast,  sort,  kind;  also,  a  'lift'  by  way 
of  conveyance. 

casting-bottle,  a  bottle  for  sprinkling 
perfumed  waters. 

chauflfette,  a  foot-warmer,  a  chafing- 
dish. 

chaussee,  chasse,  a  step  in  dancing. 

chouse,  cheat. 

clodpate,  a  blockhead. 

cock  and  pie,  an  oath  consisting  of  an 
adjuration  cf  the  Deity  and  the 
Roman  Catholic  service  book. 

congee,  a  bow. 

corking-pin,  a  pin  of  the  largest  izse. 

counter,  the  breast  of  a  horse. 

coup-jarrets,  paid  assassins. 

crambo,  a  game  which  consisted  in 
finding  rhymes  to  a  given  word. 

cross,  a  silver  coin  bearing  the  device 
of  a  cross. 

cuckoldy,  cuckoldly,  a  term  of  revil- 
ing or  abuse. 

darbies,  handcuffs,  fetters, 
dew-beaters,  a  slang  term  for  the 

feet, 
doctor,  a  cant  name  for  false  dice, 
dog-bolt,  a  fool,  a  butt. 
dogger,  a  fishing  vessel, 
dorimont,  a  dandy  of  the  period, 
doublet,  a  vest. 


473 


GLOSSARY 


drabb'd,  associated  with  harlots. 
drawcansir,  a  blustering  bully  who 

in  battle  kills  every  one  on  both 

sides. 

eidolon,  a  phantom. 

eld,  antiquity. 

enow,  enough. 

equivoque,  double  meaning,  ambigu- 
ity of  speech. 

estramajon,  a  term  in  sword  play. 

execution  dock  at  Wapping,  where  the 
bodies  of  criminals  were  left  to  be 
overflowed  by  three  tides. 

fetlocks,  an  apparatus  fixed  on  the 
leg  of  a  horse  to  keep  it  from  run- 
ning away. 

fico,  a  fig. 

flambeaux,  torches  borne  by  liveried 
footmen  prior  to  the  age  of  lamps. 

fox,  old  slang  for  sword. 

frampal,  unruly,  evil-conditioned. 

frumps,  a  sulky  fit. 

ga',  go. 

gaffer,  an  old  man,  master. 

gear,  affair,  matter. 

gestic  art,  dancing. 

green,  new,  fresh,  unseasoned. 

halberd,  a  military  weapon  combin- 
ing spear  and  battle-axe. 

baud,  hauld,  hold. 

hays,  an  old  country  dance. 

hazard,  a  game  at  dice  and  at  cards. 

herring-buss,  a  boat  used  in  the  her- 
ring fishery. 

hoicks!  a  call  used  in  hunting  to  in- 
cite the  hounds. 

hogan-mogan,  Dutch. 

houri,  a  nymph  of  the  Mohammedan 
Paradise. 

howlet,  an  owl. 

huck-a-back,  a  stout  linen  fabric. 

hundsfoot,  a  rascal. 

hustle-cap,  a  game  of  chance  and  skill 
played  with  halfpence. 

Jacobus,  a  gold  coin  worth  205.,  first 

issued  by  James  I  of  England. 
jerkin,  a  jacket. 


kit,  a  small  violin  used  by  dancing 

masters. 
knipperdolings,   another    name     for 

Anabaptists. 

list,  please,  wish. 

lubbard,  a  lubber,  a  stupid  fellow. 

lug  out  upon,  draw  sword  against. 

madge-howlet,  the  owl  is  called 
madge  (from  magistrate)  owing  to 
its  air  of  wisdom. 

main,  the  cast  (at  dice). 

malapert,  impertinent. 

mall,  a  game  of  ball  played  in  a 
smooth  alley  boarded  on  either 
side,  and  with  an  iron  arch  at  the 
end. 

malmsey  noses,  red  by  reason  of 
Malmsey  wine. 

martialist,  a  warrior,  a  military  man. 

maunna,  must  not. 

micher,  a  truant,  a  thief, 

Montague  House,  on  the  site  now  oc- 
cupied by  the  British  Museum. 

montero  cap,  a  huntsman's  cap  pro- 
vided with  flaps. 

morion,  a  kind  of  helmet  without  a 
visor. 

morris,  a  fantastic  dance. 

mote,  a  place  of  meeting. 

mum,  a  kind  of  liquor. 

murrain,  a  plague. 

musketoon,  a  short  musket  with  a 
large  bore. 

nab,  to  steal. 

nantz,  a  kind  of  brandy. 

naunt,  a  corruption  of '  mine  aunt.' 

nepenthe,  a  care-dispelling  drug. 

odds,  a  corruption  of  God's. 

odds-fish,  a  conventional  exclama- 
tion. 

oddzooks,  a  corruption  of  God's 
hooks. 

ombre,  a  Spanish  game  of  cards. 

padder,  a  highway  robber. 
partizan,    a    kind    of    long-handled 

spear. 
passengers,  passers-by. 


474 


GLOSSARY 


pendables,  gallows-birds. 

petronel,  a  kind  of  large  horse-pistol. 

piccoluomini,  an  Italian  word  signify- 
ing 'little  man.' 

pineal  gland,  the  seat  of  the  soul  ac- 
cording to  some  philosophers. 

pinguitude,  fatness. 

pink,  a  sailing-vessel  with  a  narrow 
stern. 

pink,  to  stab  with  a  rapier. 

plats,  dishes. 

point  of  fox,  the  sword-point. 

postern  door,  a  private  or  side  door. 

potsherds,  broken  pieces  of  earthen- 
ware. 

prick-eared,  having  the  hair  cut 
short  and  close,  so  that  the  ears  are 
prominent. 

projection,  a  term  in  alchemy  signify- 
ing the  transmuting  of  a  metal. 

provant  rapier,  a  sword  supplied  from 
the  army  stores. 

quacksalver,  a  quack. 
quadrille,  a  game  played  by  four  per- 
sons with  forty  cards. 
quodlibet,  a  nice  point,  a  subtlety. 

raree-show,  a  show  contained  in  a 
box,  a  peep-show. 

ratafia,  a  beverage  of  ardent  spirits 
flavoured  with  fruit. 

rejmard,  a  fox. 

roquelaure,  a  cloak  reaching  to  the 
knee,  named  after  the  inventor. 

Rosicrucian,  a  member  of  a  society  of 
mystics  and  alchemists  who  pro- 
fessed to  trans      te  metals,  etc. 

ruffle,  a  disturbance. 

ruffling,  quarrelling. 

sally-port,  a  passage  out  of  a  fortress. 
saraband,  a  Spanish  dance, 
scrivener,  one  whose  occupation   is 

the  drawing  of  contracts,  etc. 
scurvy,  discourteous. 


sea-coal,  an  old  name  for  coal. 

short-hough'd,  short-legged. 

shot,  expense,  charge. 

skean,  a  skein. 

skelder,  beg,  cheat,  swindle. 

slaver,  saliva. 

stir,  disturb;  never  stir,  don't  be  dis- 
turbed. 

stretcher,  a  narrow  piece  of  plank  for 
rowers  to  set  their  feet  against. 

stricken,  whole,  entire. 

syncope,  contraction,  amalgamation. 

tantivy,  at  a  violent  gallop. 

tappice,  to  squat,  to  crouch. 

tight,  trim,  tidy. 

tilt,  an  awning. 

timeously,  in  good  time,  seasona- 
bly. 

trap-ball,  a  game  played  with  a  trap, 
bat,  and  ball. 

traverse,  to  use  the  postures  of  oppo- 
sition, as  in  fencing. 

trepan,  snare 

trow,  think,  believe. 

trunnion,  a  truncheon,  a  short  staff,  a 
cudgel. 

twiggen,  encased  in  twigs. 

voie  de  fait,  act  of  violence. 
volte-face,  wheel  round. 

wannion,  vengeance. 

war-caper,  a  privateer. 

wassail,  ale  or  wine  spiced;  also,  a 

festival. 
weather-headed,      sheepish-looking; 

possibly   a   corruption  of   wether- 

hcadcd. 
wench,  a  young  woman, 
whimsy,  a  whim,  a  prank, 
whinger,     whinyard,     a     sword,     a 

hanger. 
whinstone,  trap  or  greenstone, 
winna,  will  not. 
wrack,  ruin,  destruction. 


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